The Paper Monster
by MadameLeQueen
Summary: The vicious cycle of murder stained his hands so red, one can smell the copper permeated in his skin. This woman was no different from any other human. She was ordinary: mortal. He grinned maliciously, his hand rising to lacerate her throat when suddenly the wind picked up her scent. And Victor Creed did something he had never done before: he purred. VictorxOC
1. Chapter 1

**The Paper Monster**

**Chapter 1**

Something was going to happen today.

And the intensity of it was unnervingly swirling in the pit of her gut.

It wasn't because there was a suspicious man hovering near the door, who continuously glanced back at an old-style beautifully rejuvenated Harley Davidson parked right across the bookstore. His red-glazed sunglasses and leather jacket did nothing to comfort her since he had been standing there for over more than an hour. _An hour._

It wasn't because of a very good-looking African-American woman mulling over the purchase of either _Wuthering Heights_ or _How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days. _Her very neatly cropped white hair was unnaturally natural when it came to her. She might as well have pink or purple hair and look just as nice.

It wasn't because of the stocky, overly built male to her right at the cash register who absolutely stunk of cigarettes and cigars. When he belched rather loudly in the quiet bookstore (with the exception of _Nick Cave_'s album softly playing in the background), the white-haired woman gave the man a sour look.

It wasn't because of the model-like redhead wandering up and down the aisle for a book to read in the cold weather in early November. Her beautiful long hair swished around her body as she hummed to the currently played music.

It wasn't because there were more customers than normal in Prosperity, Minnesota on a Sunday.

No, actually it was all of that.

Sweat gathered on her hands from the strong heater of the store and her nervousness. She wiped it on the thigh of her jeans, fidgeting with the horrendous, tacky yellow-orange checkered flannel she chose on a rush before arriving to work. She couldn't help it. All four of the _other _customers made her highly anxious.

It was as if they were preparing for something, expecting something big to happen.

Missy punched in the numbers of the cash register. "You have good taste," she told the customer who was grabbed the bag, which contained _Great Expectations._

The teen laughed and rolled her eyes. "It's for English class, not really my choice." The punk teen glanced out the window and sighed, tonguing her snakebites from the inside of her mouth. "It's gonna rain soon. I'm going to end up drenched."

Missy chuckled. "You should go across the street to Mrs. Johnson. She's selling umbrella's for three dollars." Once the cash register finished with it's little mechanical dance, Missy handed back the customer's change of exactly five dollars.

"You know what, that sounds like a good idea. Have a good day!" Though the teen had piercings on her eyebrow, nose and lips, she had the manners of a nun.

Bells held up over the door chimed as the thin, black-covered teen exited.

The woman smiled and opened up her book to the page with a dog-ear, and continued from where she left off. This was what Missy Schneider loved about working in a bookstore. A bookworm herself, she could read endlessly as long as she did her job and watched over the shop. An elderly couple that owned the store desperately needed an employee and ended up hiring a regular, Missy Schneider.

It was never boring here. For Missy, who was a regular over-worked daydreamer, it was magnificent. It worked perfectly for her since she didn't receive a lot of customers, until today that is. She loved imagining. Sometimes it came true, sometimes it didn't. She even foolishly thought herself to be psychic at one point.

But that didn't matter.

Today, she had a hunch today was going to be a bad day.

It didn't suit well with her.

"You do that a lot?"

The gruff voice from the man leaning against the counter made her jump. It caused her to drop her book, but did nothing to pick it up as her chocolate eyes blinked shockingly at him.

He speaks!

"I…um, I…" As hard as she tried, her mouth just continued to move but no sounds came from it. For a moment, she thought the man was had a disability that made him incapable of producing any sounds. Because when he entered the little bookstore, all he did was lean against the counter and stared at the aisles with boredom. When Missy had tried to help him, he completely ignored her.

The man grunted and turned back into his previous position, going back to ignoring the gaping woman.

Missy blushed hotly, bending down to pick up the fallen paperback. She dusted it off before standing fully erected.

Just as she stood, she jumped back at the sudden appearance of a customer standing in front of her. Her keen eyes didn't miss the way the four _other_ customers stared at him.

"May I help you?" Missy asked, forcing a smile on her face.

The person before her wore shades darker than night and a cap that was tilted downwards in a way to hide his face. The windbreaker he was wearing had beads of water dripping down, dropping on the carpet of the store with an eerie pattern.

Missy glanced out the window to see it was raining. When she turned back to the customer, he smiled and waggled a fork tongue in a motion that could only be defined as sex.

Immediately, her politeness dropped to her feet. "Oh, you!" An annoyed look covered her face as she crossed her arms over her chest. "What the hell do you want?"

Her best friend of basically her lifetime laughed and slid his glasses down the bridge of his nose to twinkle those unnatural gold eyes of his before hiding them once more. "What's wrong, baby face? I thought you'd miss me?" His head tilted downwards at her non-model body. "Have you put on some weight?"

"Not that none of that is your business." Missy hissed, crossing her arms self-consciously and sucking in her slightly pudgy stomach unconsciously.

"When I saw you, it became my business." Slade smiled at Missy's flaming face of anger. He reached over to poke her stomach, but that hand was immediately swiped away with her own. "Come on, tell me you missed me." He leaned over the counter, turning his cheek towards her as if expecting a kiss.

"Who'd miss you?" Missy's hands immediately were at her jean-clad hips, mouth pursing as her foot tapped quickly in irate. "And where the hell…" She glanced at the _other _customers to see that all four were staring at her. Her face flushed and she coughed into her fist lightly. "Where the hell have you been?" She whispered, leaning towards Slade Slanders with a face that only an angel of hell could have.

"I was…busy," he hesitated, glancing around him. It made Missy suspicious. Slade was rarely uncomfortable.

A mutant born of a few animal characteristics of a reptilian snake, Slade Slanders came about Missy at the age of five. And what she had learned from him was that he was never scared, even as a tyke. Built like a line backer and at the height of over six feet tall, the mutant had nothing to worry about; especially because he had mutant qualities to defend himself with.

But right in front of her, he was fearful.

"What's wrong?" Missy asked, placing her hand over his, which was trembling. "Holy crap, Slade, you're hands are freezing!"

Slade smiled his adorable smirk. "It happens when the weather's cold." He gestured with a nod towards the window at the heavy pouring rain.

"Still!" She shouted, completely forgetting about the _others_ as she started rubbing his hands in an attempt to make them warm. "What if you get sick? What if _that_ happens again?" She stressed, chewing on her lower lip with nervousness.

Reptiles were coldblooded species. They depended on external sources of heat. If they fell in a place too cold or couldn't gain any heat source, their immunity lowers to a dangerously low degree that makes them vulnerable to any level of bacteria, germs and viruses. Once it had happened to Slade when he was thirteen, and never again was he going to reach that point of death. Even if Missy had to bring hell on earth, she wouldn't let her friend go through that once more.

"I'm not cold." Slade shrugged, gently shoving her hands away from his. "I'm warm, see?" He unzipped the top of the windbreaker (which started right below his chin) and showed her his reddish, yellow-orange tinged scales. His scales flashed at her once more before disappearing into his human skin.

Missy frowned and looked back down at his human-like hands. She wrapped her hands around them once more as if believing for a minute that she was probably imagining his freezing hands.

She was not.

And that only meant one thing. It made fear coil around her heart.

Missy glanced up at him with concerned eyes. "What's going on?" She didn't realize the lean man enwrapped in a leather jacket tensing at her quivering voice. "Why are you scared?"

When Slade didn't answer and tried peeking over his shoulder, Missy yanked on his hands, forcibly turning his body towards her. She ripped off the sunglasses from his eyes and placed her hand on his cheek, keeping it there so that he was obliged look at her. Missy smoothed her thumb over his cheekbone, gazing into his golden eyes with affection and concern only close siblings could have for one another. And because their bond was grown from nothing, it made it all stronger.

"What's wrong?" She asked once again.

Slade covered her hand with his and held it tight in his grip. "I need to talk to you," he said lowly. His eyes glanced quickly at the completely still man leaning against the counter before grabbing his sunglasses from Missy to place them back on his face. "I need to talk to you right now and somewhere else." He stressed the importance of it as if it depended on his life, or hers.

"Okay," Missy answered. She didn't even think of the _other_ customers as she attempted to drag Slade into the back.

"I'd like to buy these!" A smooth womanly voice said from behind Slade, who suddenly stiffened and recoiled from the woman's presence as if she was a plague.

Missy's eyes furrowed at his unusual action. His jittery reactions were not only affecting him, but her as well. She turned back to the white-haired woman and nodded. After literally pushing Slade into the back door behind her, she smiled a smile that could do a President good. "You have good taste," she said robotically, unaware that she had said this before.

The man in leather snorted, twiddling a cigar in between his fingers.

A blush for the third time today covered her face and neck as she punched in the numbers into the cash register.

"Are you okay?" The dark skinned woman asked, tilting her head in concern as she saw Missy's hands clench tight till her knuckles turned white.

Missy gave a sharp nod, staring at the cash register as it did its little slow dance. This register seriously needed an upgrade.

"He looked a little scared." The woman pressed, glancing over Missy's brown hair to the back door, which clicked shut.

Storm's lips thinned at the innumerous theories running over her head. She didn't risk a glance at Logan who was still perched at the counter like an obedient parrot. But she did twitch her nose, signaling not only to Logan, but also to Scott who was near the door and Jean who was now browsing near the Sci-Fi collection that this would be the best time to complete their mission, given to them from the Professor. Just before Storm was able to talk, their target beat them to it.

"He's just cold," Missy mumbled, tapping her index finger on the counter in a restless pace. All she wanted to do was close the store and comfort Slade. She merely prayed silently that whatever had happened wasn't as bad as he made it seem.

"Why don't you come with me-" Storm started to try and pursue the target to join along in an innocent cup of coffee, but the skittish woman interrupted her.

"N-no, I…I'm fine," Missy cleared her throat before handing the woman back her change. "Have a good day-"

The windows of the store exploded. Glass flew everywhere, landing on the carpet floors in a silence musical song. Bookshelves were thrown on the floor from the unknown force. They groaned, ripping off from the floors they were nailed on and landed on one another like domino. Books fell and flew, refusing to acknowledge Newton's Law of Gravity as the paperbacks and hardcover books created their own tornado.

Missy was thrown on the floor from the attack. The cash registered slammed down right next to her head, popping out cash and coins from it's death. Cold wind whipped around her, throwing her wavy brown locks everywhere.

The small case that held small snow globes of Disney characters tilted back slowly and held still in the air as if to hold it's own weight, but like the Titanic it leaned back and fell right upon Missy's leg.

Her cry of pain was drowned out in the loud sounds of rushing objects and high winds.

Within a second, Slade opened the back door to see what the hell was going on and immediately the blood from his face fled as he saw who exactly was attacking the bookstore. He quickly duck and army crawled to Missy who had her hands on her face, sobbing aloud.

"Missy, Missy!" He yelled, lying upon her body to protect her from the flying objects that were caused from the weather witch.

Storm's eyes were wholly white. She held out her hand towards a mutant and soon enough they were obliterated from lightning striking down on the earth. As soon as that person was taken care of, she turned towards Jean who was using books and shelves to throw an opposing mutant. "Jean!" Storm yelled out a warning.

Soon enough the mutant who tried to attack Jean from behind was a blackened crust pressed up against a wall from Scott's laser beams.

Jean didn't have time to thank him as another shock wave went through the already crumbling building.

Arclight let out a little grunt as she clapped her hands once again. An invisible wave rushed through the store, destroying away objects and sweeping her enemies off their feet. Just when she was about to do it again, to finish the scene for good, a lightning bolt crashed at her feet.

Storm groaned as she lifted herself up. A trickle of blood ran down her temple, dripping on the tattered carpet.

"W-where's the target?" Scott pushed off a bookshelf that was on top of him.

"She's still here!" Jean yelled, defending herself from a mutant with fireballs shooting out of his mouth. "Cash register! Cash register! She's at the-" Jean's hand pulsed with power as it deflected fireballs. "She's at the cash register!"

Logan who had just slashed someone across the throat panted. He heard Jean's words and turned to where he was standing previously for over two hours and saw the snake boy from before fighting with three mutants.

He wasn't doing so well with them.

Slade twirled in the air, landing on his front painfully on the fallen cash register. He barely heard Missy's screaming and sobbing as he struggled to pick himself up. He cracked open a swollen eye, spitting on blood as determination charged through his veins. Slade had to protect her. He had to because nobody was going to do it. Nobody was going to do it, but him.

The feeling of pain wracked his body, but he concentrated. Fangs lengthened as his scales rose to utter protection. Slade felt his eyes grow warmer, turning into a darker gold color.

"Ahh, pretty boy wants to play again?" The woman who had punched him to the floor sneered, picking at her nails. "Come on, come on, pretty boy." She all but purred.

"Hurry up and take him out." The man to her right eyed the X-Men warily. "We need to get her and run."

"But can't we play with them a little longer?" A teenage girl decorated in tattoos and piercings whined, itching to bring down the telekinetic redhead.

"No, he's right. Let's finish this." The feral woman's face twisted with pure glee at the prospect of spilled blood. Her hands rounded, fingers tensing with energy. Her face shifted, bones popping as she was turning into a savage beast with bloodthirsty canines and crazed red eyes. "Someone get the girl while I handle this."

"Leave her alone." Slade snarled, his face darkening with the intent of danger.

The man laughed. "Why would we do that, when we're here for her in the first place?"

Slade narrowed his eyes. "Who sent you?"

"As if we'd tell you!" All three laughed as they approached.

"Slade," Missy sobbed. Fear gripped at her throat like a leather glove, pushing down ever so slightly that she could hardly breath.

"Stay there, Missy." Slade said with such deadliness in his voice that Missy paused from standing. He hissed at the woman-beast, feeling his wounds healing. With a swing of his arm, it elongated to the length of an anaconda's body till it wrapped around the teenager's neck. The other arm went to the man's neck as his body coiled about the bucking feral's.

Slade ignored the woman's slashing claws against his scales and enclosed around all three tighter. It was then, his strength depleted when the feral woman sliced her claws down his face, catching his eye.

"Fucking snake!" The teenager croaked, rubbing a hand around her reddening throat. She narrowed her eyes, dyed hair whipping around her wildly as it grew. "Taste a bit of your own medicine!"

As if her hair had a life of it's own, it flew at Slade.

Logan flew forward, knocking down the feral woman. He roared, adamantium claws extended and ready to cause damage. A fist hit him right beneath the eye and stars sparkled in his vision. But he returned the hit with equal force, knocking the beast woman on her back. Soon enough her throat ruptured and blood spewed everywhere.

Missy watched as World War III continued in the small bookstore. She whimpered, holding a fist under her nose as her vision blurred once more with oncoming tears.

She was helpless.

She couldn't do anything.

A human with no powers and no background experience in fighting was completely useless in a battle such as this. And she had a fractured ankle on top of all that. There was no way Missy was going to be able to do anything let alone defend herself.

Chocolate brown eyes widened as Slade was thrown from the across the room by the mutant's whip-lashing hair.

"Slade!" Missy screamed, picking herself up and dodging mini-battles as best as she could in order to get to the only source of protection she knew. As she limped to his side, Missy winced at the lacerations all over his face and neck. "Slade-!"

"Missy, run!" Slade coughed, attempting to pick himself back up.

She shook her head, crying even harder. "Nuh-no…"

"I can't protect you here, Missy. You have to run and try to do it." Slade winced as Missy threw her arms around him and held tight. "You have to run. Run far and don't stop. Don't trust anyone, Missy, or else they'll get you."

"W-why?"

"_Just do what I fucking told you to!"_ Slade yelled. A vein popped from his forehead.

But Missy held onto him stubbornly. "I can't. I can't do it!"

"Yes, you can! Missy, you're a fucking-" Slade cursed, wrapping his arms around her and rolling across the floor a couple of times. They barely dodged the teenager's hair slamming a bookcase down where they formerly were.

"Go!" Slade pushed at her weakly. "Just start fucking running!"

Missy wasn't given a chance to say no as Slade hissed venomously at her, showing her his fangs so she can see how dire the situation was. With a heartbreaking sob, she picked herself up and ran awkwardly with a limp out the hole from the side of the bookstore. Missy ignored the cry from the redhead for her to stop.

Rain pelted her, soaking her jeans and shirt to her skin like a second layer. She gasped from the pain of her ankle, forcing her body forth as her leg swung in an arc to lessen the pressure on it. Just like every victim in a horror movie, she took a look over her shoulder to see nobody in the street. But that didn't slow her down. Instead she ran faster with heavy desperation.

"Hello?" She called out as she ran, barely able to scream out a plea for help. Where was everybody? Why wasn't there anybody on the streets?

Missy continued to push herself to run, throwing her arms up and high (as an athletic person would do), and limping her way down the sidewalk. Her soaked jeans weren't doing any help of her running as her hair stuck to her face like glue.

She wiped a hand harshly across her face, agitated by the sticking strands of hair.

Just when she was positive that her lungs were going to explode, Missy reached the edge of the small city of Prosperity, Minnesota. One more foot and she'll be on the road directing south. She cursed, coughing harshly as she glanced back to see smoke rising from the destruction. Her car was parked just behind the store. But because she was panicking, she didn't think about it at all.

There was no way in hell she could go back. She already has gone this far and now she must keep going.

Her thoughts went from 'safety' to 'Slade'. Perhaps if she went home, she'd be able to meet Slade there.

Yes, she'll meet him there.

Missy turned left and started running away from the road to the tall forest trees. It took her a while to reach, since it the area was vast, but as soon as she hit the barrier of the shrubs and trees, Missy felt secure. She started jogging, wincing every so often when her ankle would protest from the weight it was forced to move upon, resolved on reaching the small cabin just built a few more miles east.

The rain did nothing to comfort her long journey. It fell upon her harder, trying to drag her down into the dirt.

As Missy ran, she did not notice a solemn figure camouflaged with the thick trees surrounding her.

_Kill her! Murder her!_

_Rip that silly bitch's throat out!_

_Rape the living shit out of her! Do it! You know you want to!_

_Scratch her thighs! Claw her face! Tear her pussy! Break her bones! _

_Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it-_

As soon as the young woman ran past him, the maddening voices came to an absolute stop. It was pure silence with the exception of pattering rain, fast winds, gasping breaths, and stumbling feet. For a moment, he had a taste of peacefulness that he had never come across in his lifetime. _Never._

Victor Creed relaxed from his tensed pose, slowly turning his head to the slight right to gaze at the woman staggering until she fell.

It was utmost peculiar how the angry voices went away. And though it dispersed along with the headache, it didn't sit well with Victor. He snarled at the image of the now limping woman, clawing at the trunk of the tree so he could travel through the high tops branches. Victor followed the woman, scrutinizing her as he almost tried to search for those missing voices in his head, the headaches, and the blood thirst: the beast.

But it was gone.

He frowned ferociously, his brown eyes glittering with malice at the thought of a mere human girl holding the ability to contain his beast from savagery. The man in him raged at it for it portrayed a weakness that Victor Creed couldn't possibly have.

It pissed him off.

Victor breathed hard, flying across from tree to tree until he dropped right in front of the shrieking woman.

He looked up at the woman with a fearsome snarl on his face. It didn't help that he could literally smell her fear permeate the air. The feral man's body stiffened further than formerly. But his teeth flashed in pure irritation at the notice of the constant voices that had been running through his head since birth gone. The tranquility was stunning, but the fact that a human woman had the power to subdue a part of him angered him.

Without the aid of his beast, Victor felt the desire to slaughter this bitch to the next millennium.

The air in Missy's lungs whooshed out of her body as she was tackled onto a floor a second after seeing a huge object fall from the sky. Her back scraped along the hard rocks and strong sticks. A cry came from her lips when her head had bounced up painfully from the forest ground. The hovering weight of doom pressed down upon her.

She opened her eyes when a sinister chuckle rang in the air only to see brown eyes of insanity.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Victor preened at the fact the woman was quite terrified of him.

After all, who wasn't?

His sickening smile grew wider, watching as the woman's pretty pink lips trembled. Victor laughed obnoxiously loud, booming his voice in a fifty feet radius as she attempted to talk, to plea for her life.

"Pl…pluh…p-pl_ease…_" Her voice dwindled into softness.

Victor merely grinned. He closed his eyes, leaning in closer to her face and breathed in deeply. The painstaking fear oozed from the woman, caressing his body like an old lover's touch with just a tease of fingertips. More than usual, his beast, _he,_ would nourish from this fear. It was an addictive drug, highly dangerous than the mixture of alcohol and cocaine, meth and ecstasy. And the apprehension on his victim's faces made the experience more like an orgasm than anything.

But when he breathed in her scent, something different happened. Something that has never happened before in his life happened.

He _purred_.

**Alright, I shouldn't be doing this. I shouldn't have made another story, lol! I'm already booked with fictionpress and fanfiction, but I did it despite my mind fighting against it. Because **_xiMenagerie_ **literally begged on her virtual knees and did numerous prayers for me to write an X-Men fanfiction, I did it. NOW YOU HAVE TO UPDATE YOUR STORIES, DAMMIT!**

**Honestly, **I don't know much about mutants and their genes and stuff, haha. This is something completely knew, and I'm pretty much digging it. I did some research on wiki about the main character's abilities and personalities, but you as a reviewer can do much more and criticize and give a few pointers if I tend to go out of character. The first four characters (aka _"other _customers") are Jean Grey, Logan, Storm, and Scott. I'm not really following a movie storyline. I watched _X-2, X-Men: The Last Stand_ and _X-Men: First Class _**(MICHAEL FASSBENDER IS HAWT. I'm seriously irrevocably in love with him)**, the other night (IT WAS SO AWESOME) to get a vague idea of what I'm tying myself down to. So, I'm basically using some characters for this story. There isn't really a plotline of the X-Men movies I'm following. I'm just creating my own.

Doing a romance, especially with Victor Creed, is very tricky. I don't want him to lose his vicious killer side, but at the same time, I have to find some godly way to pair him off with my OC. This…is going to be hard. Oh, god why?

This chapter was meant to be much longer, but the last sentence was just begging to be used as the final words of this chapter. It was a must! LOL

Based on this first chapter there are a few questions already going around, but you guys'll just have to wait and see. I have some plans already sketched out, the only problem for me is the movie characters personalities, LOL. ;_;

Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Victor Creed, aka Sabretooth, _fucking_ purred like a housecat at the simple woman's scent.

He choked at mid-purr, eyes widening to an impossible degree as he threw himself away from the woman. Victor was stunned. He was completely stunned.

When he took in a deep breath, his chest vibrated with another purr that was once again cut off with a strangled cough.

Victor stumbled back, anger seething through his pores. His fists clenched rhythmically, nails digging into the flesh of his palms, but he didn't feel it. All he felt was the ire steadily growing in a crescendo within him. He snarled, flashing his fangs to the fallen woman. He felt threatened, insulted, but his beast felt the complete opposite.

It _begged_ to be near the woman, it _whimpered _to comfort the distressed woman; it all but lowered itself to the dirt.

That wasn't what pissed him off. Oh, no, that wasn't it.

It was the fact that the beast _whined_ to mate with her.

Victor didn't mate. He fucked.

"Who are you?"

The woman merely shook her head from side to side, attempting to crawl away from him.

"I asked you a fucking question," he growled out, stalking the woman as she dirtied herself with the wet dirt and soft soil. The rain was falling harder, threatening to wipe out her scent, and it made his beast irritated. Victor roared, hating the little control that he had.

Missy crawled back as soon as the man had lifted himself away from her. She sobbed, shoving herself back weakly. "Please," she started. "Please, don't…d-don't hurt me…"

The soft flesh of her palm was prickled with sticks and stones from the ground. But that didn't make her stop.

Her brown eyes watched as the roguish man before her cautiously, hoping that he'd take pity on her pitiful state and either leave her alone or help her. From the looks of his furious face, he wouldn't do neither option. "No, no, stop!" She shrieked when he grabbed her by the upper arm and hauled her to her feet. He picked her up off her feet and she started kicking wildly in hopes to be released.

"Stop fighting, bitch!" He shook her violently, causing her head to snap back and forth until she was limp with compliance.

When his face ducked to her neck, she quickly closed her eyes tight and imagined for someone to save her from this.

Before Victor had a chance to catch a good whiff of the broad, a force slammed against his side. He grunted, releasing the shrieking woman as he flew back a good fifteen feet before his back smashed against a tree. An ugly snarl ripped from his throat as he got to his feet, eyes narrowing at the sight of a familiar figure.

Wolverine never took his eyes off of the enemy as he called out to the girl, "Hey! You okay?"

Missy hissed as she struggled to pick herself off the floor. When the man had been hit, she went flying straight to the ground. Her hand went to her cheek at the sensation of a tickling feeling only to see that it was blood glistening on her fingers.

She looked over her shoulder at the loud brawl that started just after her savior had called out to her.

The two men were at it like sailors. They punched, threw, kick and even lashed out their claws to slice one another. When the fighting pair inched away from her, Missy was on her feet.

She panted, glancing at them once more before making her way for sanctuary.

"What do you want with her, Victor?" Logan asked, slashing his adamantium claws down the man's face.

Victor chuckled at the pain, grinning maliciously at his younger brother. "Wouldn't you like to fucking know, Jimmy?"

Logan narrowed his eyes at the name. "Don't call me that."

"Why the hell not, Jimboy?" He laughed humorlessly.

Logan roared, barreling straight for the older figure with his arms outstretched by his side. He slashed at Victor riotously, grunting as he quickened his arms to move faster. Victors arm came up to block a down slash of his claws and not a second later a boot caught his middle and sent him flying back.

The Wolverine ignored the angry snarl and turned quickly to see the girl making her own way to safety. Just when he was about to yell at her, a hand wrapped around his neck.

"Just fucking look here, Jimmy," Victor started, smirking at the red face of his brother. "Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy, oh, my fucking dumbass of a brother, Jimmy."

"Fuck you," Logan sneered.

Victor chortled, shaking his head as his fangs glistened. "No, no, no, Jimmy. _Fuck you. _I've been fucking waiting around like a fag with blueballs just to find out that my goddamn brother wants nothing with me. Ya fucking cunt."

Just to be related to this monster was undoing. Logan didn't want anything to do with Victor. He had learned a few clips of his previous life with the professor. When he had learned that he was related to this sack of shit, he nearly killed himself for it.

Not that he could die, but still.

Being half-bird is better than being related to Victor. It was as if he shared the same blood with the devil himself.

"Why are you here?" Logan asked, barely able to talk.

Victor flashed a fang. "Why else is everyone here-"

At the midst of Victor's words, they were suddenly cut off when a gust of wind blew in his direction, carrying the scent of the frail in it.

Logan stopped struggling when he heard a familiar sound.

"…Did you just purr?"

In utter humiliation, Victor fiercely threw his brother to the ground, ignoring his angry snarl when he was thrown a couple feet to the side as Victor attempted to grasp a hold of himself. Veins popped from his temple and neck, livid that he had purred in front of Jimmy. His face threatened to flush with the color of the blood rushing through his veins.

Anger broiled through him like an angry witch. The intensity of it was too strong. It made Victor snarl angrily, breath heavy, and most of all, it made the sadistic side of him happy with glee as the only thought went through his head:

Kill the bitch.

Kill her and make her suffer.

She embarrassed the fuck out of him. Nobody does that. Nobody does that to Victor Creed! He was malicious, an evil fuck, dammit. There was nobody standing on two feet (or four+) on the planet that should be alive if done so. Nobody should live to tell the tale of Victor's humiliation.

His eyes zeroed in on her tumbling form. And instantly he was after her.

Missy gasped, fighting the painful stitch growing at her side as she forced each leg to pick up and move a bit farther. She had more ground to cover, but so far, so good. She had managed to distance herself from the two mutants. Their yowls, screams and yells made her shudder. It was disconcerting for a human to be present within a mutant fight. There was nothing they could do. They were helpless.

As was she.

The rain pattered upon her small body. It soaked her clothes, giving her an addition of weight as her clothes welcomed it like a sponge. A frozen hand pushed her bangs out of her face. The rain was becoming heavier.

It was blurring her vision.

She had glanced back, despite her repeating to herself to not to, and thought she saw something out there. When she blinked, there was nothing.

But as soon as Missy turned around, her body was knocked to the floor.

Brown eyes stared up at the man incredulously as he pinned her shoulders to the ground in a painful grip. Missy couldn't throw up her hands to defend herself if she wanted to. This man was the epitome of a serial killer. There was nothing she could do.

But it was pretty odd the way he was staring at her.

He stared down at her with such a tattered expression on his face.

_The Torn Prince_

And then suddenly, without a warning, he started attacking the girl relentlessly.

A shattering scream escaped from her lips. Missy threw up her hands, attempting to shove the man straddling her hips, but it only resulted in deep lacerations on the soft flesh of her arms. "Stop it, stop!" She pleaded uselessly. There was no pity coming from this man as he continued his assault. He was like a machine, a machine with no ending power once plugged and operated. His arms continued to sail down upon her, and her skin opened easily like butter.

Soon enough, she was just a bloody mess on the ground.

The voices in his head it had whispered, but disappeared quickly. Victor roared, puncturing the girl's shoulder with his hand. Though the beast in him howled in him mournfully, Victor ignored it.

This bitch was going down. There wasn't going to be anymore embarrassing, humiliating experiences he won't be able to control. There was going to be _nothing. Nothing._

It wasn't until the rage in him somewhat dimmed that he can to a stop.

Victor breathed harshly, panting as he sought for oxygen for his dying lungs. He stared down at the bloody, ravaged form beneath him, watching with dilated eyes as her chest barely moved, and listening to the wheezing of her body. A smirk tugged at his lips and soon enough a spine-chilling smile covered his whole face.

He had succeeded, he had conquered.

Before he could stop himself, Victor lowered himself to the woman's face. He had meant to talk to the woman savagely, in all honesty, but instead his tongue came out and lathered her cheek. And it came out a second time, and a third.

He couldn't stop. He couldn't. From the very split moment he (or rather beast) thought of it, he knew it was going to be a bad idea, but he did it anyways.

It was just too compelling, the scent of her blood.

And the taste? It was addicting.

Soon enough, he was just a household cat licking the master's face with a bristled tongue.

Victor's tongue neared her mouth and he nipped at it, creating a new wound and releasing fresh blood. "Ohh, you are fucking cocaine, aren't ya, ya cunt?"

A breathy gasped answered his rhetorical question.

Just before he could release another embarrassing purr, he was out like a lightbulb.

Logan stood over the fallen brother, flexing his fingers after punching the asshole across the back of his head. He leaned down and plucked Victor by his rather filthy brown cloak and threw him to the side, not even wincing or flinching when the feline man smashed against a tree. He turned to the woman and cursed.

"Hey, girl, can you hear me?"

The only answer he received was a lowering of the eyelids.

"Shit," Logan cursed. He reached for the earpiece in his too-tight leather X-Men suit and placed it into his ear. He clicked a button and was immediately connected with the other three older X-Men. "Guys, we have a major problem?"

"_What's the problem?_" Storm asked.

"Sabretooth was here and he did not welcome Missy Schneider with a hug," he said sarcastically as he picked up the bloody girl. "Bring the jet fourteen miles to the east and we'll meet you there."

"_How is she, Logan?" _The concern in Jean's voice made him grimace.

"Not good," was all he said.

The Wolverine ran back from where the woman had run through. The rain had muddled the scent of her tracks, but with his exquisite nose and hawk-like vision, he followed her foot tracks until he was in an open field.

He heard the invisible jet as it lowered itself to the ground. Once it was fully safe to approach, Logan ran towards it, running into the latch once it had become visible to the human eye. In an instant he was enveloped with warmth from the heating system, but was still dripping from the rain.

"Here," he motioned to Jean as he laid the girl on one of the chairs.

"Logan, what the hell happened?" Scott stared at Logan's chest, making the man glance down at himself to see his whole uniform doused in blood.

"It's not mine."

"Jet's lifting off," Storm informed.

Scott and Logan jumped into their seats, while Jean belted the young woman into her seat and compressed a rag to her wounds. "What happened?" Jean asked incredulously, wincing at the opened slashes decorated all over Missy's body like sushi. "There's so much!"

"Apparently, we're not the only ones after her." Logan glanced out the small window and narrowed his eyes. "Victor Creed was here."

"Why?"

Storm, who had been controlling the jet, asked, "Is he still working with…him?"

"I don't know. I don't know anything about that monster," Logan growled, clenching his fists. His adamantium claws popped out of reflex, making him wince as it broke the newly grown skin over his knuckles. "From what I can gather, yes, I'm going to assume he is with General Stryker."

"And from the other mutants, we can assume that they're with Magneto," Scott mentioned, his memory going back to Arclight.

Jean said nothing as she mulled over the news. She continued to press the now soaking bloody cloth to the woman's wounds.

With new players in the game, it was going to be more complicated than chess. It was going to become a round of go, a Japanese board game that relied heavily on strategy and the conquering of territory.

Missy Schneider hadn't become important until recently. Someone had found out who she exactly was and what she was capable of. And because she was a woman, she'd be easier to manipulate. It was their job, assigned by Xavier, to attain the woman and slowly introduce the idea of training her in order to use her powers for good.

It would be a long process, especially when trying to do this naturally, but it was going to be worth the work.

With someone with this type of talent, this type of gift, it'd be astronomical for someone to _not_ be after it.

Jean closed her eyes, pushing back the impending headache as she tried to concentrate on saving the woman. Though it would be more than a good idea to let the woman die (which was something that was even thought about), she couldn't allow it. It was decided to let the woman live. They couldn't control the factor of her living or dying. They were required to help, not to be her executioner.

"She's bleeding too fast and too much? How much farther are we?" Jean asked, never relenting the pressure from her fingers.

"A little under an hour," Storm answered.

"That's too long," Jean murmured.

"I'm already pushing the jet as fast as I can. It can't go any faster," Storm threw over her shoulder. "How critical is she?"

"Very," Scott replied. From the looks of the blood-covered woman, it wouldn't take longer than fifteen minutes for her to leave the world of the living.

Logan frowned. "What can we do?" He was a man, an army man. As a soldier, there shouldn't be a task that couldn't be complete. It shouldn't exist.

Jean's eyes glazed over, and soon the voices of the jet dulled into the nothingness.

_Kurt…_

Just as quickly as Jean pleaded for his help, the German man appeared. He flailed from the sudden change of place, catching his balance by gripping the seats nearest to him. As soon as he was stable, Kurt turned towards the redhead. "Jean?"

"This is Missy Schneider. Take her directly to Hank. _Directly_."

Without another second wasted, Kurt held the bleeding woman in his arms and dispersed in an air of blue smoke.

**This was honestly the biggest pain in the crack of the ass to write! **

I couldn't connect with the characters at all, and I was stuck with the confrontation of Logan and Victor. I personally thought there should've been more action, but I couldn't do anything about it. It was hard Dx

I haven't watched The Wolverine Origins yet, so I've been grasping the idea of Victor Creed's character from the internet. It was the hardest thing ever, lol! Still fun, but hard :c

Yes, Missy is a mutant who is oblivious of her…"specie" (?). Trust me to not throw her into the whole "I'M A POWERFUL MUTANT THIS QUICKLY" stage, bahaha. X)) I like to take things nice and slooooow.

Thank you my reviewers! (:

**Lati08** Colorful Raging Cancer _SOA-The-Crow21_ **Day-Of-The-Dead-TattooGal** xiMeangerie

**Jenna – **I'm glad you enjoyed it! (: Here's the second chapter! There will be more, but not as quickly as I'm struggling to grasp how to use the characters and setting xD


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The annoying trills and beeping of a machine nearby nearly made Missy go crazy.

She had woken up not minutes ago, driven on the edge from the maddening noises the assumed machines surrounding her created. It was not only deafening, but also annoying. _Annoying. _An attempt to make a frustrated grunt left her choking onto something that was intruding down the length of her throat.

Tears collected at the edge of her eyes from the disturbance of the tube. Her hands, trembling, came up at the pace of a snail in hopes to remove the tub. But sadly, as much as she wanted to yank it away, her hands were prevented from going any farther by soft-linen handcuffs.

Confused, disoriented, and coughing the hell out of her mind, Missy can only continue coughing as the edges of her vision darkened.

She nearly lurched off the bed when someone had slid the tube out of her throat (which was one of the most invading experiences of her life), gasping and coughing as if she had been breathing in the deepest bowels of hell itself. As soon as she managed to keep a steady breathing, Missy fell back onto the hospital bed. The five-second strength already depilated, leaving her as weak as a newborn kitten. Her reddening eyes glanced to the side to see a hulking blue blurry figure looming over her body.

"Hello, Ms. Schneider, it seems as if you finally decided to awake from your slumber," the smooth voice of this supposed doctor was full of intellect. "Hopefully permanent this time."

Missy blinked a couple times, but alas her vision wouldn't clear. "You're…blue…" she stated rather lamely.

A chuckle escaped from the doctor. "Now we know that you're sense of observation is fine."

She only groaned in response, shaking her head weakly from side to side on the rock pillow. "Where am I? W-why are my hands cuffed?"

"It was for your safety, I assure you-"

"You cuffed me for my safety," she repeated, incredulous about the abhorred safety measures this doctor took to hospitalize her. "I feel like a prisoner here. Where's the nurse? Can I have a cup of water or something? My throat feels dry." Not to mention, abuse.

Instead of doing what she asked, the blue doctor hovered over her with a pen that emitted a ray of light. "If you'll just look into this light-"

Missy yanked her head to the side. "No!"

An aggravated growl escaped from him. Just with that growl, it left Missy petrified with fear when the images of the man at the forest came hurling into her mind. She whimpered, squeezing her eyes shut as she pressed herself hard into the bed in hopes that it would eat her.

Hank McCoy sighed at the woman who was now fearful. He leaned away from her lying figure, and pinched the bridge of his nose as an oncoming headache threatened to lock him away for the day. "I'm sorry, Ms. Schneider, but you must do as I say. It's for the best of your health." Hank waited for a few seconds, watching for any movements that can be defined as uncooperative until he continued on. "Now, I need you to look into the light."

When she opened her eyes hesitantly, he flashed the light across her eyes, watching as the pupil dilated.

"Alright," he said, putting the pen into the front pocket of his shirt. "Now, I'm just going to feel the areas of your neck."

Throughout the whole procedure of Hank checking his patient for injuries and pain was silent and awkward. Of course he had patients who would rather stay quiet, but the atmosphere was never as tense as this.

A sigh escaped from his lips as he pulled back from the woman. "It seems like your head hadn't taken a severe blow. I can imagine you have a headache including certain sores to your body. One of your ribs are fractured, your ankle managed to heal from its swollen form, and your femur had a hairline fracture. You have a couple of bruises, but other than that you're, surprisingly, fine."

"I don't feel like it," Missy said, closing her eyes.

"All I can prescribe you is some painkillers along with a good dose of sleep." Hank hummed, crossing his arms over his chest as he quirked his head to look down at her. "How do you feel?"

Missy closed her eyes, sighing as she felt for her body.

"I feel like a beaten up seven-year-old's toy."

Hank laughed. "Why seven?"

"Because that was the age I was horrid to all my toys."

An amused chuckle reverberated through Hank's bestial form. He cleared his throat and placed a hand on Missy's shoulder before leaving over her. "Do you know who I am?"

Missy openly frowned at him, blinking a couple of times. "You're…the doctor."

"Do you know your name?"

"Missy Schneider."

"What year is it?"

Irked with all these random questions, Missy glared at him. "What are you doing? Why are you asking all these questions? I know who I am, who you are, hopefully. And it's 2012. Why all these questions? I was…." Her voice trailed off as broken images from her last memories whirred. "What happened?"

Hank moved away from Missy, bringing a chair next to her bedside and sat upon it. "The reason why I'm asking you all these questions are because during the last two weeks, you would wake up for a brief amount of time. And each time you would, you'd ask the same questions. 'Who am I? Who are you? Where am I?,' etc. I want to make sure you're not suffering from memory loss-"

"Wait, I was attacked by an animal-"

"Yes, you were, and suffered a heavy amount of blood loss. There were very deep lacerations that seemed to heal quite nicely," Hank commented, his eyes lingering on the white bandages encircling her torso and arms. "You have also suffered a small head trauma, which thankfully wasn't as bad as it seemed."

"Where am I?"

Hank paused in his medical speech, eyes crinkling in concentration. "You're inside of a medical room that belongs to Xavier's Academy in Upstate New York."

"New York?" Missy breathed out softly, turning away from Hank to look up at the ceiling. "What the hell happened?"

"Do you remember anything at all, from before you had awaken, Miss. Schneider?"

The recurring nightmares of a vicious man slashing at her made her breath quicken. "I was in a bookstore…there were more customers in it than usual, especially in m-my small town."

"What else?"

"There was a fight." Missy closed her eyes, forcing herself to remember everything that happened. "Mutants were fighting against each other…." There was someone else…who was there?

_Just do what I fucking told you to!_

Missy gasped as her eyes snapped open. She turned towards the doctor. "Slade! My friend, he was there, he was fighting!"

"Slade?" Hank repeated.

"Slade Sanders," Missy fought against her restraints, trying to sit up. Numb throbbing started from her sides and other prickling shots of pain needled up and down her leg, but she ignored all that. Her mind was concentrated on her friend. "Where is he? Is he okay?"

"Missy, you need to calm down-"

"Where is he?" Missy shrieked, panic enveloping her small form. The last time she had saw him, including from her memories, he was not in a good state, fighting with a she-wolf. "He has to be okay, he has to!"

Hank's hand twitched on his thigh, his mind fighting to decide whether or not he should shoot her with morphine and allow her some sense of sleep. It's not like she didn't have any, but at the moment she was throwing the tantrum of the millennium with absolute resolve to hear, find this Slade Sanders.

"Missy," Hank started.

"Slade! Slade, where are you?"

"Miss. Schneider!" Hank roared.

Missy plastered herself on the bed, looking up at the blue beast with wide eyes as they narrowed down at her. "Where is he?" she sobbed.

Hank sighed, sitting back against his chair. "Slade Sanders is alright. But," he said forcefully when Missy opened her mouth to interrupt him. "But, he is not here within the building. I have my sources say that there were wounded mutants and humans during the small battle within the bookstore."

"Liar!" Missy screamed.

A grimace formed on his face. "If you don't believe, you can watch the news. Keep in mind, Miss. Schneider, that mutants do not fall at death's hands as easily as humans."

Missy stared at him dumbly for a moment. Slade couldn't be dead, could he? It's true that mutants can die, but some of them (those that are in hiding to be exactly, aka Slade) can avoid the human's nature of death. Slade was one of them…right? He couldn't be hurt…he couldn't!

"Why am I here?"

"Because you have brought the attention of many, many interesting people who personally wish to use you for their own purposes."

The door had opened while she was in her temporary catatonic state. A man in a wheel chair rolled in, smiling gently as four very familiar people flanked his sides. He wheeled in next to her bed, greeting the bowing doctor for a second before turning towards her with his full attention. "Missy Schneider, I am Professor Xavier."

Missy wasn't looking at him. She was staring at the four mutants standing near the doorway.

Confusion roiled through her body, abusing her brain till nothing at all made sense besides the oxygen and carbon dioxide in the air.

"What exactly is going on here?" Missy asked softly, almost warily.

Xavier nodded at her question, lifting a hand to his side as if to gesture towards the four others. "Miss. Schneider, you have met them before your accident. These are my friends, who are also teachers of this institution for those with special powers: Scott Summers, Ororo Munroe, Jean Grey, and Logan. They were at your bookstore, if you remember, before disaster had struck."

"Why?" Missy asked, quietly fighting against her restraints. She gasped when they fell apart from her wrists.

In a speed of light, she sat up and instantly regretted it.

Pain spread up her side like wild fire, and when she glanced down red splotches blossomed through the white bandages. She let out a feeble curse before rolling onto her side, ignoring the gentle patting of the blue doctor as gasped in pain.

"I thought she'd be healed by now," Logan said, watching as Hank fussed over the woman.

"Some slashes were deeper than most. And as one who is well acquainted with Sabretooth's claws, you should know how long those suckers are." Hank mumbled, opening the drawer next to the bedside to extract more bandages. He quickly managed to wrap another layer of white gauze over the bleeding one, and much tighter to stop the flow.

Missy breathed nosily, her nose clogged and tears running down her face. A small fist gripped at the blanket with a fearsome strength to balance the warring need to wail for Slade.

"All better, Miss. Schneider?"

Her back, which was turned towards them, shuddered. "What's going on?"

It was quiet for a moment, a moment that took too long. Missy wanted to roll over and look at them, but with what just happened, she wasn't willing to risk it.

"Perhaps we better wait until she fully heals, Professor," Scott said.

"No!" Missy hissed when her ribs throbbed from her yell. "I want to know now!"

There was another moment of silence.

"This was something that should've been saved until you are well enough to come to my office to speak," Xavier said behind her.

"I'm strong enough," Missy said weakly, fighting to keep up the façade that her small battered body contained the strength for a discussion that would probably send her into a coma for the next century. But she needed to hear this; she needed to know what the hell was going on. As if to prove her point, Missy attempted to get out of bed.

She ignored Hank's insistent words for her to stay still. Ignoring the pain bleeding in her side, Missy sat up forcefully; sweat doused her brow as she stared in an almost glaring fashion at Xavier with eyes intense with concentration. Another gut-wrenching push and she was already sitting up.

It was almost comical to see a bandaged woman, who was sweat rather profusely, leaning over her lap in an attempt to sit up.

"See," she breathed harshly, panting almost. "I can…I c-can do this…"

Xavier smiled widely before nodding. "Alright, Miss. Schneider, you have proven your point."

Missy breathed heavily and nastily, wanting to desperately throw herself back on the bed and sleep, but she needed to hear this. She needed it.

"Why…" she breathed out heavily, bringing up a hand to wipe at the sweat on her forehead. "What's going on?"

Xavier sat on his wheelchair, staring at Missy for a moment. "Three months ago, there was a man who made an astonishing discovery. And that discovery was you. That man was General William Stryker."

"Before you were placed into his equation for the destruction of mutants, he was a militant man, very concentrated in his line of work, especially when it came to ranks. General Stryker is heavily into politics, and a great influence to the President of the United States."

"What does this have to do with me?" Missy asked.

"Just wait for story tellin' to be over, girly," Logan said.

Before Missy could retort, Xavier raised a hand for silence.

"As I was saying, General Xavier has a great abundance of power, power that can't be disturbed or stop despite him being human. He has a son named Jason, who we have sadly come in contact with and cannot save."

"Save him from what?"

"Save him from the experiment his father created him to be." Storm said, lips thinning at the memory of the dual-eyed boy.

"But…that was his son…" Missy said in astonishment.

"The bonds of father and son deteriorated when his son was a mutant. Stryker gave his son a lobotomy to make him docile after a rather tragic death of his wife."

Missy frowned at all this information. What did all this have to do with her?

"It was no secret that General Stryker held a distaste towards mutants. And when he realized his own son was a mutant, you can only imagine how he dealt with it," Xavier cleared his throat as if trying to erase horrid memories. "While he did strongly dislike mutants, he used them to his advantage and had them do some of his duties of extermination, which were completely ignored and swept to the side because of his rank and power."

Scott, who was leaning against the door of the room, shook his head, perhaps even rolling his eyes behind those dark shades of his, who knows.

"For a while he was quiet. He was too quiet to ignore, so I used my gift," Xavier stressed. "And noticed he was mulling another project of his, which was created three months ago."

"Missy," the redhead, Jean, started. "you must listen closely to what the Professor is about to say and take it seriously. None of this is a joke."

The brown-haired woman on the bed frowned at Jean before frowning. "Don't tell me I'm his 'next project'."

The grim nod from the bald man in the wheelchair made her laugh hysterically.

Missy laughed and laughed, laughing as hard as she could to a point where her ribs were protesting rather painfully against her outburst. Tears cascaded down her cheek as those words echoed through her head. "Oh god, hahaha, don't tell me, no, no, no, hahaha!"

Once her giggle attack came to a stop, she wiped her tearing eyes with the back of her hand. "I can't be, you must be joking! I'm human!"

"You're a mutant."

Missy shook her head. "No, no, I'm human. I would've known if I was a mutant. My parents would've told me. Hell, my best friend would've told me!"

"There are late bloomers when it comes to mutations, much like puberty." Professor Xavier said, ignoring her arrogant snort. "And you are exceptionally late to your gift, much like your mother."

"My mother's not a mutant-!"

"Your mother had a peculiar bloodline, much like some humans nowadays. Her mutation diluted the more her ancestors married humans to a point where she had no powers or outer appearance proof of any mutation. But she did have a small factor within her genes that activated terribly late, and that was longevity, with a mixture of healing."

"Why are you talking in past tense?" Missy frowned. "My mother isn't dead."

Xavier cleared his throat before continuing. "Josef Schneider and Victoria Manning are not your biological parents."

It was as if her heart had stopped beating, causing time to come to a dreadful stop. "What are you talking about?" she whispered softly.

"You were adopted by Josef and Victoria at birth from a Catholic nunnery in Norway. The reason why I was talking about your biological mother in past tense is because she is deceased."

There was a dizzying sensation. Missy clutched her head, squeezing her eyes shut as she fought to ignore Xavier talking.

"Your mother was, ahem, working for an underground escort service in Norway and was handpicked by General Stryker himself to do the inevitable after the tragic passing of his wife. One thing led to another and the two managed to conceive an unintentional offspring, you. An abortion was supposed to take place, but your mother, at the age of thirty-eight was tired of her choice of life and decided to stop and live normally in a small village up north in Norway."

"Stop…" Missy said breathlessly.

"General Stryker didn't want this controversy to affect his standing within the States and refused her wishes even when she promised silence. He had caught a wind of what she wanted and decided to settle your mother's disobedience with the only way he knew of."

"No."

"Yes, violence." Xavier watched on as Missy held her head between her hands. "Your knew how to lay low after being in an illegal underground prostitution ring, but she couldn't hide from him for long. Luckily, she was able to deliver before passing away from a severe hemorrhage during birthing. Her sister who had converted into Catholicism to become a nun took you in and swore to keep you. The covenant hadn't liked that and she was forced to give you off to adoption."

"Shut up!" Missy yelled, scrunching her tiny fists into the white sheets of the gurney. "Shut the hell up!" When he didn't cease his words, Missy turned over on her stomach, screaming into her pillow and ignoring the rushing blood from her sides.

"This is you, Missy," Xavier continued on with his smooth, low-toned voice. "You are the daughter—"

"No!"

"—of Louis Angel—"

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!"

"—and—"

"—William Stryker."

She was the illegitimate daughter of General Stryker: the daughter of a murderer to her own mother, the daughter of a selfish man who thought of himself.

This wasn't happening. This wasn't real.

Missy picked up her head from the pillow looked up at the people in the room with her red, swollen eyes, wishing fiercely that they weren't truly here. They were images, illusions to her mind. This was trickery!

"No, this is not a dream, Missy." Xavier wheeled closer to the gurney despite Scott's fierce protests. "This is reality. You are the offspring of General Stryker, an offspring that has caught his attention when the possibility of you possessing a mutant factor grasped his deadly obsession. Whereas his son, Jason, could conjure illusions to another, you could either have his talents, and more, or not."

"I'm not a mutant," Missy said, her voice muffled by her face buried upon the pillow.

The blue doctor, Hank, cleared his throat. "I had taken some blood samples while you were unconscious these past two weeks, Missy, and it has been concluded that you are a mutant."

The dam broke. Missy began crying, screaming with all the power and strength she had in her body.

Her life was a lie. It was an incredible lie that only storybook telling couldn't invoke.

First, the two most important people in her whole entire life were fake; they weren't her parents. Her best friend disappeared, and now she was a mutant.

What the hell was going on?

"I wanna go home! Please, I want to go home!" Missy pleaded, picking her head up and looking at the bald man next to her. She fiercely wiped the tears trailing down her cheeks away. "Please, let me go home. I need…I need to go home."

"I'm dreadfully sorry, Miss. Schneider," he said almost sympathetically if it weren't for his earlier words of truth. "You are targeted by two different branches of people that have the means of using you for bad if succeeded. I can't allow that to happen."

A wrenching sound of sadness squeezed from her throat. Missy placed her face back into the pillow, sobbing and wailing aloud of her sorrows and betrayal.

She felt a hand smooth over her head once before hearing the telltale whirring of the mechanical wheelchair veering out of the room.

Once the door closed, the woman was left alone with just herself and loneliness.

**I've finally updated! Oh, goodness, it's been so long! I've been busy all summer and couldn't update any of my stories on fictionpress and fanfiction. Argh! But have no fear, I will not abandon any stories! It just takes a while for me to update ^^ **

**The chapter is very informative of Missy, and the next chapter she'll be adjusting to the X-Mens…sooooooo, the romance between Victor and OC will take a while, hohoheehee! But don't' worry, it'll get there sooner or later ;D**

**Any questions, feel free to ask! **

**Thank you my reviewers! ;D**

**Miss Luny **Seph7 _vampireyautja _**HauntedMonster** Colorful Raging Cancer _LadyxAbsinthe_ **Lati08**

**Powergirl24 – **Glad you're enjoying it!

**Jenna – **Hahaha, thanks for your patience! I know it gets really tough nowadays for most authors to get inspired to up and get ready to write an amazing chapter. For me, it's the same nowadays. But I'm still updating something amazing, right? :DD Haha, I haven't! I need to watch it ASAP!

**Koko – **LOL! Whew! Thank goodness his reaction to my OC is right on the nail. It's only what I would expect from him (:


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

The movement of the body after being unconscious for quite a while took a toll on Missy. Her knees were constantly buckling, throwing her to the floor unexpectedly as she tried to walk the corridors of the school.

She cursed beneath her breath, pushing herself up with her arms as she glared furiously at her trembling, weak hands. "Get…up…" she said.

"It's not a good sign when you start talking to yourself."

As much as she wanted to, Missy refrained herself from groaning aloud. That voice…that voice had been giving her hell since the beginning. And she very much wanted someone, anyone, to drag the brute man away from her. She knew she didn't like him from the very beginning! Instead of answering his remark, Missy pushed herself up and used a nearby decorating table as leverage.

Logan merely leaned against the wall as he watched the woman struggle to bring herself to his feet.

He had learned from the first moment, that she did not want him anywhere near her. And the vicious glare she sent his way only told him to back off.

"What do you want?" she spat, breathing hard when she was finally standing on her two feet.

"Just making sure you're not going to break anymore antiques," he said pointedly.

When she had first started walking around the mansion for a sense of exercise, Missy had broken three vases, which were passed down from generation to generation in Xavier's family. No amount of apologies coming from her would ever ease the miserable expression on the pacifist's face. He accepted her apology and assigned her Logan to keep watch just in case she needed any assistance.

Not that he assisted. When she had fallen down the stairs of the mansion, the asshole laughed.

"I'm doing better now!" Missy hissed, straightening as her menacing brown eyes glared at him. "I don't need you to babysit me!"

"Says the breaker of three-"

"Shut up!"

Dear gods, someone kill the man and put her out of her misery.

Missy continued to wobble down the corridors and ignored the many stares the students of the academy were giving her. She hadn't noticed that she was within an academy until she realized that there were a lot of young children here. The place had looked like a house, to which Xavier confirmed.

This was a sanctuary to the mutant children.

And the thought of that brought unwanted thoughts to Missy. She shook her head and continued walking, much like Pooh Bear (as Logan had unnecessarily commented), to exercise her unused muscles.

"Come on, girly, move along. You're killing me here," Logan said as he walked past her and made a left to the end of the hallway.

She wanted to throw something at him.

Missy straightened herself and held her head high as she started walking towards the Professor's office. She gritted her teeth, ignoring the stiffening of her muscles as they cried for rest.

But, no, she must continue walking lest she wanted to stay here longer.

As soon as she had made it to the door, Missy nodded to the Professor and sat on the chair opposite of his desk at his command. She sighed and leaned back, feeling her muscles go lax with rest.

"I see you've been improving."

Missy nodded, adjusting herself on the seat. "It's taking a while but I've been getting better."

Charles smiled at her improvement, openly happy with her state of recovery, as he wanted to move onto the next stage of her stay here. "Now, Ms. Schneider, what I've been wanting to discuss with you is about your mutation."

At that said, Missy shook her head. "With all due respect, I wish to do nothing with my mutation. I am thankful, and even grateful, that you've taken care of me when I most needed it, but now I'm going to return home, where I belong. I don't want to do anything with my mutant powers."

"But you can't. Everyone wants you." Storm, who had been standing at the Professor's side, said. "You must realize that your mutation is wanted by everyone."

"I don't even know my mutation, if I have one!" Missy exclaimed, frustrated already.

The Professor smiled kindly. "We have a theory about your mutation."

She frowned, suspicious about him. "Why?"

"Because of your half-brother," Logan said, thumbing a cigar in his hand. "Remember, Jacob…George or whatever the hell his name is."

"Jason," Charles corrected. "Your brother, Jason, had the powers to create illusions."

Missy's face contorted in disgust. "So, what, you think just because my supposed half-brother can create illusions, you think I can do the same?" She scoffed, leaning back against the comfortable chair and sneered at the three. "Look, I don't want to do anything with my powers. You said there were people after me, but for twenty-one, twenty-two years, I've had no problems with anything!"

"Until last week," Logan reminded.

"But that was just once!"

"And it won't be the last."

Missy huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "I don't believe it, I'm sorry. I was just working in the bookstore and hell erupted. I don't believe I'm a mutant."

And this wasn't new.

Throughout her whole stay, Missy had been adamant of reminding everyone and all that she wasn't a mutant. It seemed as if she was trying to convince herself, but they (and she) knew the truth otherwise. If it wasn't for the fact that her blood work confirmed it, it was the fact that she came from the very loins of General Stryker, who had already bred a mutant.

And Logan was very annoyed by it. He, who was positioned to watch her as she walked around, was constantly told to bugger off (as the Brits like to say) and go to hell.

Not only that, but Missy always made a snarky remark that they were foolish to think her mutant when she was obviously human. And he had enough of it.

Without even thinking, Logan stalked towards the unsuspecting Missy and his adamantium claws flashed out. He very quickly and very lightly made three flesh marks on her arm.

Missy yelped in shock at the pain on her arm. She jumped from her seat and held her hand over her bleeding arm, staring at Logan with astonishment. "What the hell was that for?" she cried, hissing as the flesh burned.

"Look at your fucking arm," he growled before returning to his original spot.

"Asshole!" she yelled at him, holding her arm against her chest as Storm started ripping a new one in Logan.

As she backed away from everyone and into the corner of the room, Missy glanced down at her arm to see the sticky blood all over her palm. But that wasn't the thing that caught her attention.

It was the unharmed arm.

"What the…" Missy said, using her thumb to rub against the part of her skin that had been opened previously. "What's going on?" she asked, unable to find the bleeding wound.

"You've healed." Charles said.

"What does that mean?"

"It means what he said," Logan said, rolling his eyes at the slow girl. "You can heal."

Missy didn't say anything as she continued to study her arm. She was sure she felt the pain of when Logan had attacked her, but there was no evidence of it other than the drying blood on her shirt and hands. She leaned down, squinting her eyes as they roved around the whiteness of her skin, unable to find any opening of the arm.

Shit.

She collapsed on the floor, feeling somewhat comfortable that the walls were in a way holding her up as she sat in the corner. Her brown eyes looked up to see all three looking at them. Missy looked away and down at her arm.

She was a mutant.

Wanting nothing but to bury her head in her hands, Missy merely sighed and closed her eyes at the oncoming headache. "What now…?" she asked meekly.

"We will train you until you're strong enough to control your powers." Charles said.

"I don't even know what my powers are…" Missy mumbled.

Storm looked at Charles who nodded. "Missy," she started as she slowly approached the girl. "We have an idea of what your powers are. As we have said before, your brother, Jason, had the ability to create illusions in people's mind. We think your power has something to do with that. Whether it is of telekinesis or if you're a telepath, it doesn't matter. We will help you."

"With the promise you will use your powers for good." Logan said slowly, as if thinking there could've been another way to say that without making it sound so goddamn corny.

Missy huddled in the corner of the room, bringing her knees to her chest.

It had taken a while, a very slow, painful while, before the girl nodded. And when she did, everyone within the room felt the weight on their shoulders disappear.

It was baby-steps.

Missy had been given a contract to sign, something about it being morally right, before shown to her room. Because she didn't want to become a student, not that she could, within the academy, she was to meet with someone the following week, by the name of Kurt, to create a job for her to work her stay within the mansion.

But that didn't matter.

She was a fucking mutant.

Honestly, she didn't know what to feel. Missy felt betrayed. Her…adoptive parents had not mention anything about adopting her, nor had they acted anyway different than those families around. There was no evidence of it other than the fact that Missy was a mutant.

"Slade…" she murmured against the softness of her pillow.

She dearly missed her friend, her reptilian friend. And she wanted nothing but for him to be there with her and tell her that everything will be all right. There weren't monsters in the world, and she wasn't one of them.

It was cruel to think of it, but it was what she thought. She didn't want to become a mutant.

And she wasn't just a mutant. She was a wanted mutant by the General of the United States of America.

If that couldn't get any worse, it wasn't helpful that a villain was after her ass, too.

She groaned against her pillow, punching it a few times before flopping onto her back. Missy stared at the ceiling, watching as the lights played on the white paint before disappearing. The night was chilly, but she didn't feel like wrapping herself in a blanket. Missy allowed the chilly night to wrap around her, soothing the fiery anger within her.

The need to scream was great. She wanted to run outside and open her mouth, allowing all the fury and agony within her to explode.

It was unfair.

Why, why her?

Missy sighed, scrunching her face in irritation.

She couldn't sleep.

The new information and the old were swarming in her head relentlessly, abusing her mind with the wicked laughter of evil and the chimes of innocent bells. It was bothering her that her thoughts of mutations were so one-sided. She didn't mind mutants, as they were humans, too! But when it came to her, she didn't want to be one and immediately called herself a monster.

A monster, which what was she was.

Oh, the angst was pissing her off.

Missy got off the bed and washed her face. She then walked out of her room and roamed the dark mansion, using a mini-flashlight to light her way.

The flashing of television caught her attention. Missy walked towards the huge entertainment room and quietly watched as a young boy continuously blinked his eyes to change the channels of the television.

"Can't sleep?"

Missy yelped and jumped high, completely taken back from the young boy's attentiveness to his surroundings.

The huge, wide-rims of his glasses looked at her. A small smile peeked from his face.

"Hi," Missy said awkwardly, shuffling at the entrance.

"You can sit if you want," he said politely before turning back to television.

She stood there for a couple seconds before going close to sit down. Missy sat down on the comfortable couch, sighing as it acted as if it wanted to swallow her up. She allowed the comfortable couch to cocoon her as the child continued to change channels.

Her eyelids were drooping down slowly as the two watched a show about the Chinese delicacy of eating everything within sight.

"The saying is, we eat anything with legs, but not a table, and we eating anything with wings, but not an airplane…" the television said.

The sight of monkey brains was the last thing Missy saw before she slept.

Her short dream consisted of the wild.

There were trees surrounding her, the smell of pine assaulted her senses. Rocks crunched beneath her weight, and the wind brushed past her.

And she wasn't alone.

Missy couldn't find the other person in her dream world. She moved slowly, as if she was in jelly, as she sought for him.

A sight of a brown coat dashed past her peripheral vision.

Then suddenly, his face was in front of hers.

"_Stop fighting, bitch!"_

She gasped and sat up, panting as her dilated eyes swerved from side to side. She turned to see the young boy looking up at her with wide eyes as if he should be ready to defend herself. A huge sigh of relief escaped from her as she slouched back into the couch. "I'm sorry…." she said to the child.

The boy's stiff position didn't rest until a few moments later when he was sure he was not going to be attacked. "It's okay."

"Nightmare?"

Missy nodded, feeling sweat peppering her face. "Yeah…" she answered with a sigh.

"What are you doing here?" Logan asked furiously.

Both on the couch screamed, turning around and grabbing one another as they faced Logan who merely blinked at their jumpy nature. "Again, what are you doing here?" he said, walking into the dim-lighted room as he assessed his surroundings like a typical militant man before giving them his whole attention.

"I can't sleep," both blurted.

"I understand Jones, but not you, Missy."

Missy frowned and slowly released the child. She stood up and placed her hands on her hips. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're supposed to be sleeping."

"Oh, and what, I have to be sleeping?"

"Yes." Logan growled out.

"I thought this was a sanctuary, not a jailhouse!" Missy spat, feeling her anger growing towards Logan.

"When you're an unstable mutant, this is a jailhouse."

"I am not unstable!" Missy yelled, taking a step towards him with a snarl.

Logan took a couple steps towards her, ignoring the nervous look on her face, as he was literally an inch away from her. "When you're unable control or even tap into your powers, you're unstable in my book. And that means, I want you away from the children." He grabbed her by the upper arm and started hauling her towards the stairs.

"Unhand me, you cretin!" she yelled, hitting his bulging biceps with her tiny fist.

It wasn't until they reached her room did he release her. He gently shoved her inside, pointed at her with his index finger as he said, "Sleep!" before she was left alone once more.

"UGH!" she groaned aloud purposely before throwing herself on the bed.

Missy snarled and growled like a wild animal, beating up her pillow. She groaned aloud once again and threw her clothes off to wrap herself like a burrito with one of the blankets. Missy muttered about the huge ape guarding her prison cell, wanting nothing more than to bite the living crap out of him.

And with that, her eyes closed angrily.

She had dreams of him from then on out.

Pieces of papers fluttered around him like dying ephemeral butterflies. The bookstore was desolated: shelves groaning as it fell down, books searing through the air, and papers flying around slowly.

And he was in the midst of the chaos.

Missy didn't know his name, but she recognized him. He was the man, the mutant, who had viciously slashed at her body without an ounce of mercy.

In her dreams, she stood before him in fear watching as a malicious grin spread across his face. The torn pages of the books all around them flickered around them in a state of excitement from the bloodlust emitting from him, and thus she named him, The Paper Monster.

**Yay! Another update! (: This chapter took me a while to finish, but I've done it! Victor won't be shown up until later and…it will be quite a surprise. Haha. **

**Hope you're enjoying! Thanks for the reviews!**

**Mrs Sorbo** lilyofheval5 _Akari . Wolf . Princess _**jenefaner **Venger _Kagome Nightmare_ **leevana** Colorful Raging Cancer _SamuraiTater_ **Lorna Roxen**

**A Nelson – **I'm glad you're enjoying it!


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

A scream made way from her mouth as her body spun in the air multiple times before landing with a sickening thud.

Missy wheezed, curling up into a fetal position as she fought to have just some sweet, sweet gulps of air to her deprived lungs. "Jesus, I thought this was a training session," she groaned.

"Training session? This is more like puppies wrestling." Logan chuckled, pulling out a cigar and lighting up the end. "Get up, we still have lots to do."

The woman ignored the smartass quip from the chain smoker and closed her eyes as she fought to stay awake. Those dark spots were appearing in her vision and it wasn't doing her any favor by getting bigger.

A week after she was forced to acknowledge her powers, Professor Xavier made a small schedule for the post-human.

During the mornings, she was equipped with a higher experienced mutant and traveled into the vast greenery of the mansion's backyard. They would work on meditation. The professor mentioned something about relaxation and calming nerves that'll help unlock and ease her powers into her body, but so far none of that happened.

When the professor had tried to force his way into her mind and release the tight strain upon her mental workings (with Missy's grudging agreement), it had given the woman migraines and they've ceased from continuing.

"We shall continue forth with meditation. It's the only way," Professor Xavier had said.

And it didn't do anything. Nothing. Zilch.

Missy was almost convinced that she was purely human until the memory of her skin healing up before her eyes within a matter of milliseconds crossed her mind.

Without any knowing of what her powers could be, the X-Men had no idea what to expose the woman to. They had small information on her half-brother, Jason, but with telekinesis and mind-battles, it was a delicate situation they were not willing to tamper with. So, in that, they continued with her meditation schedule.

Day by day, night and night, Missy was getting depressed slowly.

It had been over a week and she hadn't talked to her parents. More likely than none, they must be crippled with grief and agony at the loss of their daughter, despite the fact that she was adopted. Missy had wanted to contact them more times than once but was refrained from doing so when Storm had commented they wanted to keep her location secure and safe. And that meant keeping anyone from knowing where she was, including Slade.

It was hard, but it was enough for Missy to reluctantly agree; especially when she had two more rivaling groups after her.

Jean, a woman who also had telekinesis powers, had been kind enough to purchase Missy a journal for the woman to write her feelings and emotions into.

"It's bad to keep everything inside," Jean had said. "It'll only make you explode."

Even though Missy had no idea what Jean had meant by that, she wrote in the book regardless of feeling like a teenager with a bad break-up. She admit, it had helped some, but it didn't help Missy from feeling alone and isolated…especially when that asshole Logan kept her from everyone.

"Get up."

Missy turned onto her stomach and forced herself up. Her arms shook with the effort of standing as they had been training for over an hour. Not use to such exercise, the small woman gasped and wheezed with an effort to maintain a straight posture.

"Arms up, legs out." Logan demanded, lowering his head (much like an angry bull) as he prepared to spar with the female.

"I'm tired!" Missy complained, not bothering to go into position. "I want to go back inside and sleep. I don't want to train!"

"Sorry, Missy, not my orders."

"This is bull!"

Logan didn't bother replying as he launched forward. Missy yelped and quickly dodged (rather clumsily) to the side as he barreled past her. She barely brought up her arm in an attempt to deflect a punch to her head and missed the one heading for her stomach.

There was a pinch of guilt in Logan as he watched Missy dry heaving in front of him but quickly swept it away when he reminded himself, it was for the better. This wasn't a sort of punishment he planned evilly with the Professor, but it was a means to try and attract her powers by the force of protecting and defending herself.

He admit, it had been his idea from the beginning, but after a week of this Logan wasn't sure if it was going to work now.

Logan sighed roughly. It had been little over an hour since they've started. Usually, he would continue till an hour and a half or two with the others, but this woman was getting nowhere. Not matter what he taught, it went into one ear and escaped through the other.

But he wasn't going to treat her like a handicap. He treated no one lesser than himself.

"Enough fooling around. Let's go."

Missy was walking up the stairs with a slowness of a snail. She groaned and moaned with each movement of muscle, feeling the sore and abused ligaments going through strenuous motion of walking up each step. All she wanted to do was slip between her covers and close her eyes into the interminable sound of sleep.

But that was impossible.

Since she lacked the skills and technique to join the X-Men (especially when Logan called her a joke of a fighter), the professor assigned Missy to a more realistic position within the mansion: a helper.

Missy was not fine with this. No sir'ee.

Did she have a choice?

No.

There was absolutely nothing she could do when there were people with meaner and sicker intentions out there for her uses. It wasn't as if they knew what her powers were, if she did have anything worthwhile, but the only information that did matter was that she and Jason (her half-brother) shared a specific DNA strand, a DNA strand that could be manipulated and used to their benefits.

This made Missy depressed. She lived in Minnesota for crying out loud. Nothing was supposed to happen there. Nothing! People were nice there; people were considerate and kind!

Missy groaned as her muscles cried for rest. She merely continued climbing up the stairs and nearly wailed in relief when she reached the door of her room.

Pushing it open, Missy didn't even think about closing it as she plopped herself on the bed. Sure, it wasn't comfortable but it was a bed. She could rest on it until she had to get up and clean up the kitchen; something she was assigned for today.

When she closed her eyes, he appeared again.

Like the first day she met him, he stood there imposing and silent.

The setting was similar to that very day of destruction and heartbreak. The smell of rain permeated the air, dirt moving every few seconds. The trees were tall and dark, as it was wet with water drops. Leaves fell all around, slowly to a point where it seemed as if time was coming to a stop.

Missy stood there in her dream, confused and scared. As much as she screamed at herself to run, she stood there petrified.

His dark eyes were trained on her, ignoring the leaves falling around. And then he began to walk in a circular path.

His gait was predatorial. Head low and shoulders folded inward. While those brown eyes of his were upon her, his ears were twitching ever so often from the sound of falling rain. Slowly, oh so slowly, the left corner of his lip lifted in a menacing sneer, flashing her an animalistic fang to prevent the rabbit from moving. The man walked around her with a space that left her feeling as if she was being stalked. And she was.

When he veered in on her, Missy's eyes slid close.

She felt him breathe against her cheek.

And that's when she woke up.

In cold sweat, she gasped and flinched. Her fist was clenching onto the bed sheets with a strength that could surprise Logan himself. Finger by finger, she released it and sat up in bed, staring at her pillow.

These dreams were becoming ridiculous.

She groaned and wiped a hand down her face as if trying to rid the memories of the dream from her mind. Of course it wasn't going to work. It never did. Her dreams were getting worse. When it had first happened, he was standing from afar. Now he was so close, it seemed as if he was going to get her sooner or later.

The thought of it terrified her. She didn't want anything of what happened to Minnesota to find her.

She wanted to be in the comforts of her mother and father, safe and sound.

The alarm clock on the drawer near her bed started beeping with the intensity of a nagging grandmother. Missy groaned and slammed her hand upon the black mechanical device before standing. Her muscles weren't as tired, but they were still whining for more relaxation.

There could be none of that, none right now.

Missy yawned and cracked her neck. She walked out of her room and closed the door before making way to the restroom, which was shared by everyone on the floor. Washing her face and drying it, the woman started her way to the kitchen.

Kids were deplorable.

The kitchen was a disgusting mess. Soda was spilled everywhere, food crumbs and grease all over the stove. Some of the smaller mutants were unable to serve themselves and that left food stains all over the beautiful white marble counters.

More than once, Missy had screamed at the kids and chided them from their mess. The smaller ones listened attentively while the older mutants sneered and claimed her as the housemaid.

Goddammit, she will not be abused.

With an impressive snarl, she snatched a clean towel from one of the cabinets and stalked to the stove. "You will not defeat me!" she whispered fiercely and started scrubbing at the mess with all her might.

There was laughter coming in from the other entrance of the kitchen.

Two young boys were horsing around, flaring out their ice and fire abilities at each other without a care if anyone saw them. It was rule in the house that powers will not be used when horse playing, and Missy had seen more than once this pair had done it a couple times to not be claimed as innocent.

"Get out, now." Missy stated. She stood there with her arms crossed over her chest.

One of the boys immediately relented, holding up his hands. "C'mon, John, let's go somewhere else."

The fire boy sneered at Missy. "You can't tell us what to do! You're the maid." He turned to his friend and waved him into the kitchen. "Bobby, lets get some grub."

"I said no." Missy said, stepping in his way.

The boy merely ignored her and shoved her away, intent on getting food.

Bobby shuffled from foot to foot nervously, the goody two shoe unable to choose what side he should support. The girl who entered behind them sighed in irritation and cursed at John with a heavy southern accent. "Boy, ya bettah lis'un ta 'er."

"Shut it, cowgirl. I'm hungry."

Missy went up the John who was exploring within the refrigerator. She used her shoe and closed it hard, and watched as he narrowly dodged it. "The kitchen is closed until I'm done cleaning." Ignoring his angry yelling, she frowned. His temperament somewhat reminded Missy of Slade, knowing full well that he was a handful of a child. "I've dealt with my mutant friend, I could deal with you. Maid schmaid, I should tell you what to do since your mother obviously failed with your upbringing."

Those words made the fire boy pause midstep. He turned towards Missy with eyes of death. "Shut up!" he yelled, fire flickering at the palm of his hands in irritation. "You know nothing!"

"Just from your behavior, I know everything."

"Bitch!" he snarled. The easily provoked student threw a fireball at Missy.

She narrowly dodged the flaming fireball, throwing herself to the side and hearing the ball go through the window, barely missing the stove and creating an H-bomb.

"John, stop it!" Bobby yelled.

The pyromaniac didn't listen to his friend. Instead, he was too consumed by anger from the woman who knew nothing about him, the woman who couldn't even produce any ounce of power within her to protect or defend herself. "You bitch, who do you think you are? You're a failure of a mutant."

Completely unaffected by his comment, Missy staggered up to her feet and snorted unladylike. "I may be a failure of a mutant, but you fail in life."

Knowing that it made completely no sense at all, Missy continued to stab at him. "Why so sensitive? Was it because you disappointed your parents?"

The girl with white hair flowing from her bangs narrowed her eyes at Missy. "Stahp talkin' about him. Ya know nuthin' bout Johnny!"

Another fireball aimed for Missy.

"Shut the fuck up!" John screamed.

It singed past her, making her clothes catch the wicked flames and heating for a moment before she was able to pat them down.

Now, this was getting too dangerous.

Just as the woman was about to call quits and tell the teen to get the fuck out of the kitchen, he let out a yell filled with so much agony and sorrow, she couldn't help but be stunned. Missy watched wide-eyed as the third fireball aimed for her, too close for her to do anything, as she was caught off-guard.

And just like that, it clicked.

Water suddenly dropped from the ceiling as if each little square was a panel ready to be released at the feeling of water. And it wasn't just water. It was as if a layer of water from the swimming pool had been transported to the kitchen and dumped upon everybody in sight.

It made Rogue scream as she was swept away into the dining room. Bobby yelped in shock from the coldness (as it was night) and faltered from his standing while John was smoking from the water extinguishing his flaming self.

Missy coughed, tasting the metallic taste of god knows what in her mouth as she choked on water.

"I'll kill you." John snarled, stalking towards Missy. Each step he took, his shoes produced a squishy sound.

A pan appeared out of nowhere in front of John and smashed into his face, breaking the delicate bone of his nose.

The teenager howled in pain as he clutched at his face.

A long green hose was the next thing that appeared next from a magician's will. It coiled around John like a snake, wrapping the boy over and over till he was covered from the shoulders down. The pyromaniac screamed and snarled in fury with blood dripping from his broken nose. His screaming had caught the attention of someone.

Logan, who had been sleeping peacefully in his room, barreled into the kitchen. He glanced around to see the floors completely soaked and a tied up John. "What the hell is going on?" he yelled.

Suddenly, many different colors, sizes, and kinds of plushies popped out of nowhere.

As if there was an invisible fighter, the plushies started pelting the Wolverine over and over, plopping at his feet only to reappear and smack his body.

And all this, Missy imagined it.

It had taken her a while to realize what was going on and had not noticed that it was her doing until she saw Logan slashing at the floating stuffed animals with his adamantium claws. There was no time for her to say anything as she stared at him getting continuously smacked by fluffy animals.

"She's doing it!" John screamed, snarling towards Missy's collapsed self. "That bitch is doing it!"

"I'm sorry!" Missy said, breaking from her stunned self.

"Quit this shit!" Logan growled, as he continued to slash at the teddy bears and stuffed lions. Being pelted by these things hurt.

"I don't know how!"

"Try!"

And that had only resulted on replacing the dolls with perfume and saturating the irate man in different fragrances.

A body had phased through the wall of the kitchen and with a screeching scream, Kitty yelled, "My dolls are missing!"

Her face when she saw her dolls stuffing strewed all over the wet floor could've been hilarious if Missy hadn't been the one who had caused this all. While the teenage girl screamed in horror, she darted past a wheezing Logan and went up the stairs with the speed of a cheetah.

"What on earth is going on?" Scott yelled as he headed towards the melee.

And as he dashed past Missy, he glanced at her and immediately he froze, as did Missy.

Missy felt his confusion, his fear, and his anger, but there was no way she could release him from the frozen state he was in without looking away. And that she could not do. His eyes were completely glued to hers as she controlled him into a posture of completely submission. Her mind was screaming at her to stop, to release him, but she didn't know how. She couldn't. It wasn't until she realized she wasn't breathing, did Missy gulped in air and release the Cyclops from her harness.

There was nothing that could stop the Minnesota girl as she continued to run and slam her room door shut.

Holy shit, she was a mutant.

Holy fucking shit, she was a mutant.

Jesus motherfucking Christ, she was a mutant!

Missy was pacing in her room, breathing in deeply as she fisted her hands in her hair. There was no way this was real life. This had to be a dream. It had to!

"Oh god, oh god."

She sat on her bed, feeling her legs shaking violently from the overwhelming sensation of powerless running through her veins. Her chest quivered with unknown fear and anticipation from it. A pale hand pressed against her cheek, willing desperately for any sort of stability to take shape or form. But there was nothing, absolutely nothing.

Nothing was running through her mind as she got up and ran out of her room. Her footsteps were made clear to be quiet and quick as her eyes scanned the area for that one technological object that can calm her fervent mind.

While her trembling hand held onto the telephone handle, her finger was stabbing numbers.

Her heart was beating quickly. Missy glanced down the hallways of the mansion, hoping that no one would be walking around too soon, as she was strictly restricted from using the telephones by the professor.

"Hello?" a weary old soft tone of her mother spoke.

"Mom?"

There was a slight hesitance in the response of Victoria Schneider's voice. It felt like a lifetime to Missy until her mother responded with a tone of voice that only spoke of anxiety and fear. "Missy…" she simply said at first. "Missy…where…where are you?"

"I'm okay, mom." Missy sobbed, feeling tears threatening to flow from her eyes. "I'm in New York, being cared by some mutants. I'm so sorry I didn't call sooner. I—I couldn't!"

Victoria started sobbing and as she attempted to talk to her daughter, Missy could make no sense of it.

"Give that to me, Victoria." Missy heard over the phone. "Missy? Missy?"

"Dad?"

"Missy, listen to me. Run—!"

But there wasn't a chance. The line went dead.

And while there was a confused, crying woman in New York attempting to recall the number she had known throughout her childhood, the couple in Minnesota were thrown on the floor.

Victor stood over them, snarling viciously as they cowered away from his animalistic demeanor. His dark brown eyes shone with malcontent, his fingers twitching every so often with the heavy desire of ripping them into shreds. He ignored his boss, William Stryker, humming from behind; he was walking in the living room as the old militant man gazed at the family photos.

"She looks just like her," Stryker murmured, his eyes trained on the young fresh face of Missy's prom picture. "It's almost uncanny."

"She looks like that Norwegian prostitute?" Agent Zero asked from his position by the windows facing north. "That woman had some beautiful legs." He let out a low whistle in appreciation.

Stryker merely scoffed at Agent Zero's input of his choice back in Norway. It had been a night worth remembering, yes he remembered. "Victor, cease yourself. You're scaring our guests."

"What's the use of not when they're going to die anyways?"

"No, no, no, they have collateral."

As the adopted parents of the woman who had much power in her uses, Stryker needed to use them against the woman, his sadly as told daughter. Of course, he had known about her and thought nothing of it, much like his other seven bastards oversea, but as soon as the plausibility of her harnessing powers much greater and grander than his first son, Jason, it was a must to bring her to his side. After all, they were related.

"Don't bother trying to save her, Josef." Stryker turned to the fallen couple, his smirk growing on his face as he watched the human couple clutching at each other. "There is no way she can gain any form of sanctuary. She's meant for the battlefield."

"No, she's not! She's just a girl!" Victoria screamed, glaring at Stryker.

"No," Stryker corrected. "She's a mutant."

"She's our daughter!" Josef yelled.

"And she's mine by blood."

"Leave her alone!"

"Oh, no, no, no," Stryker laughed. "We need her, we need her bad. New York, she said?"

"No!" Victoria screamed in horror.

"You can't do this to her! She's only a child!"

"When I was twenty-two, I was already operating machinery for the government." Stryker mentioned rather boredly. "She'll do just fine."

While the two were screaming and yelling, they rest of Stryker's reunited and leftover of Team X were left to do their own scavenging of the Schneider's home.

Victor had left the rest and was now stalking throughout the home, his nostrils flaring every so often as the lingering scent of the woman he had met weeks ago was held very faint within the house. It was so faint he was often retracing his tracks and trying another route just to stay with it. The ridiculous notion of the man, a murdering man, walking around the broken in home for the scent of Missy Schneider was so bad, even that asshole Wade Wilson laughed at him.

But it didn't matter. No. Despite it was humiliating and embarrassing Victor continued to stalk the hallways until he stood before a specific door.

With a heavy shove of his shoulder, he broke the lock and was immediately harassed by the innumerous scents of the room. Victor hissed at the smell of another male mutant in the room, slashing a nearby wall from pure fury.

"Stupid cunt," he sneered, not know why he was so angry, but couldn't help control his anger and the maddening voice in his head.

The room was neat and clean. It hadn't been used for a while. A small bed was placed at the corner of the room, blankets folded and free of wrinkles. A desk was on the opposite side, stacked and piled with various books of different sizes and colors. A dirty laundry basket was set next to it, empty and as vacant as the room.

As Victor walked through the room, his eyes were trained on the bed. He walked towards it, his hand slipping off to the side and grasped the pillow between each clawed finger. His claws stabbed into the softness of it, tearing the fabric as he sat down on the bed.

And while Stryker and the other members of Team X were left to harass and question the Schneider's, Victor was left up inside the room, heavily smelling the remaining scent of Missy Schneider by burrowing his face deeply into her pillow and purring madly like a wanton cat.

At that moment, there was not a second for the Sabretooth to realize his disgusting actions of desperation as he fed his deprived-self.

**Okay, honestly, in my pov, the fight scene kinda sucked lol. It was hilarious, I'll give you that LOL I was basically forcing myself to write the chapter and that's how it looks like when I force myself :D I know it doesn't explain much about Missy's powers, but it'll be shown later throughout the story. **

**Have no fears, Victor will come in chapters sooner or later! **

**Hope you enjoyed the chapter! :D**

**Thank you my reviewers!**

**TwilightMelodiac** CaptainJuice _jenefaner_ **InkedCupcake92** Akari . Wolf . Princess _SBPride_ **watergoddesskasey** Risika Kiisu Seto _Mrs Sorbo_

**Blacklion – **hello! I'm glad you're enjoying it so far!

**Kairi – **Here's an update! :D

**Jenna – **hahahahaha xD I've done that once or twice, I can relate! I'm glad you're catching up with all the chapters! (: Hope it doesn't happen again lol!


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

"Read the first line, please."

"A, B, C, D, E, F—"

"Missy…the line isn't in alphabetical order."

"…Oh."

"Try to read it, please."

"…R, E, and…is that an X? Um, T, S, P, uhhhh, U—no! G! And…L, W…Ohhhhhh."

"Next."

"T…D, O, uhhhh…S, R, E, no R! And…Z, P, and…M?"

"Try the next one." Hank hummed in concern as he continued to hear the woman completely chop up the line of letters into something different.

"Dr. McCoy…is that a number?"

Three days after her powers had erupted unexpectedly, the woman, Missy Schneider, was assigned to numerous tests and exams. It was an attempt to make sure everything had been all right during the explosion of her power, which was unfortunately not going as well as Hank had wanted it to.

"It seems as if there are quite a few problems, Miss. Schneider."

Missy snorted. "You can say that again."

Ever since her powers had awakened, it seems as if it was balancing everything out with her body, physically. The Professor had a discussion with Missy to talk about her powers, and it was that little bit of information Scott had given the Professor where Xavier had deemed her eyes held much more power than usual. With the power to manipulate and seduce anyone into saying, doing, freezing, or breathing with just a glance of her eyes, they were considered highly dangerous.

But just like the good ole wise man said, with great power comes great responsibility. With that, unfortunately Missy didn't have as good as a responsibility as some ominous person up there thought. And because of that, she was nearly as blind as a bat.

She sniffled, peering through the fuzzy outlines of the world as she sought for the blue human. "Hank…I can't see you."

A blob of blue came back into her vision, but despite how close the good doctor was, Missy couldn't see any defined lines or familiar facial features.

"It seems as if your powers had blown up your corneas and irises. When you're trying to see, the way the light is entering your eyes isn't the same as it was before," Hank said, flashing a flashlight back and forth over her eyes to see her pupils reacting to it. "Your corneas are too round. The light bends too much and isn't properly focused at the back of the eye."

Missy groaned and placed her face in her hands. "I was perfectly fine two days ago! Why is this happening now?"

"Your body was struggling to fight against the changes your powers are making to yourself. It was basically providing barriers to defend your body but your powers are too strong. It slowly started deteriorating your natural defenses, and then before you know it, the changes are happening."

"So, what's going to happen? Am I going to have an extra eyeball? Will my hair fall out or am I going to grow another arm out of my stomach?" Missy asked sarcastically.

"Nope, it would've happened already if that were the case. But luckily, your eyesight seems like it was the only thing affected. Fortunately, your other mutant power hadn't teleported your organ out of sight. This is something I haven't seen before, let me tell you that." The doctor started talking excitingly about the progress of his work, especially on her. It had made Missy a bit uncomfortable, as she was feeling like a bigger freak than she already was.

Missy sighed and lifted her head. She looked at where she assumed Dr. McCoy's face was and spoke. "Is that it? That's my power then?"

"Powers." Hank corrected. "It seems like your blood-related mother was a mutant as well. It's something slightly similar to Kurt's transportation-teleportation powers. But it seems like your blood-father's gene, William Stryker," he ignored her wince and continued on with his explanation. "And your mother's gene intertwined to create something extraordinary."

"What, making this appear from thin air?"

"Nope. Imagining them."

Despite the fact Missy didn't want to know anything at all, she couldn't take the risk of something happening on her body because of her stupid weenie powers. "What do you mean?"

"I'm talking about you purely imagining something and having that exactly happen." Hank yanked and leaned back against his rolling chair in the mansion's infirmary. "And I'm not talking about settings, oh heavens no. I'm talking about objects. You can imagine objects, existing objects, that is, and transport them and use them to your expense."

"So…I'm a magician?"

Hank laughed. "In a sense, I suppose."

"So let me get this straight. I'm Chris Angel…who can make this appear out of thin air, and not only that but I'm also Drowzee, a yellow stupid pokemon Slade used to love, that can hypnotize people to do my bidding?"

"Yes."

"This is bullshit!" she snarled, fisting her hand and slamming it down next to her thigh.

"This is the truth." Hank replied.

Missy groaned, stuffing her head into her hands once again. "I suppose I should feel grateful that my vision was the only thing to be affected from this freak accident, huh?"

A warm hand encompassed hers. "You are not a freak, Missy."

"Well, I feel like it."

"You're a mutant, not a freak. There's a difference between the two." The cold edge in the normal warm and joyful voice of the doctor/Secretary of Mutant Affairs (something Missy had learned recently) had told Missy outright that she had said something wrong.

She mumbled a soft apology and heard him wheel away from her with a heavy sigh.

"Let us finish this chart so I can assign you some glasses. I'm not quite familiar with this department of optometry, but we'll see what we can do, yes?"

With a sound of agreement, Missy continued with Dr. McCoy's medical assessment.

By the end of it, she was walking out of his office with thick glasses perched upon her nose as if she belonged to a clique of nerds in a high school movie. It hadn't helped with her vision fully, as her glasses would take a while for Hank to create, but it had done some good as it cleared up the blurred lines and fuzzy images her eyes were producing.

Missy grimaced as small children and teenagers were crowding the hallways, going between classes and lunch.

Honestly, when anyone reaches the age over twenty, high school students were a pain in the ass to deal with. Missy didn't know how teachers do it. Must be their passion because hearing girls squealing over new boy bands and boys exchanging pictures of nude playboys were overbearing to the Minnesota woman.

Though Missy had merely received her AA degree at a local university near her hometown as of last year, she had witnessed the booze and monstrosity college students create. And more likely, these mutant teenagers were heading towards that path.

Shuddering in such a simple memory, she hurried to her room (a sanctuary from everyone really) with her arms outstretched and eyes squinting through the somewhat useful spectacles.

"I see you've met with Hank."

At his deep voice of wisdom, Missy careened to a stop. She swerved to the side and peered through the semi-clear blobs. "Xavier?"

The telltale sound of the mechanical chair whirring closer gave it away.

"Ahhh, I see that the results have been rather dire, Missy." Xavier noted, taking care to see that the small brunette was moving her head in rapid swivels as if the glasses perched upon her face did no help at all. "Are those glasses prescribed?"

"No, Dr. McCoy said that the process would take about a week or two." Missy forced herself to still and stare at the blob in front of her. "How are you doing, Professor?"

A chuckle broke out.

"Missy…" the Professor started. "I'm over to your left."

Blushing heavily, the embarrassed woman turned to see another shape at the old man's elbow. "Is that Logan?" she asked with a tone of voice that told everyone in sight she was mighty displeased with the man's presence.

"The one and only," Logan replied, shaking his head as he attempted to rid the image of the woman talking to a flower vase.

"Hm," she merely hummed.

"Chuck told me your eyes, uhhhh, suffered the consequences of your erupt powers."

"Sadly, yes."

Xavier tilted his head to the side. With his lips pursing and eyes full of focus, he said, "Hopefully your vision will start to clear up in no time. I've heard there is a slight chance that you may regain your perfect 20/20 vision in a while."

"What's the percent?"

"…Ten."

Missy sighed heavily. "Then there is no way that's going to happen."

"There is always a possibility."

"Not for the damned."

"Quit the theatrics, kid." Logan sneered, annoyed with the woman wallowing in self-pity and sadness. "So, what, you've lost your sight. No big deal. You have it better than others out there. Use your disability as an advantage. Learn how to use it. Learn how to play with your bat blindness instead of accepting it like some fat kid crying over spilled ice cream."

Missy glared nastily in his direction of voice. "Oh, and you've been blind before?"

"Many times," he replied.

Before Missy could even ask the asshole how in the world one can be blind more than once, he beat her to it with something that had her screaming no over and over and over.

"Training, by tomorrow. How does that sound, Chuck?"

Xavier made a hum of approval that made Missy want to rip her hair out. "Sounds like something that could be quite useful to you, Missy." The British man cleared his throat and turned away from the mess Logan had created. "I shall be in my office. Good luck to the both of you."

"But, Professor—!" It was too late. By then he was gone.

"It's for the best."

Missy rolled her eyes and looked towards him. "I feel like you really, really hate me and the only way you can really express that hate is by beating me up to a pulp…really, really bad."

Logan laughed, walking towards her as he realized she was once again talking to the previous vase she mistaken Xavier for. "Nah, I just think you need some ship-shaping to do. Especially now you're near blind, bub."

She growled in irritation as she heard him walking around her. "I can't see, dammit. And even if I can, I don't think I can fight without my glasses getting in the way."

"I knew a man who was near blind once," he said. "Not myself, that is. Well, I had been blind a couple of times, but that's out of the question. The thing is, a man from New Orleans who went blind from god knows what had the ability to fight off five men by his lonesome self. His name was Remy, or to some Gambit. He taught me a thing or two, and now, I'm going to pass that on…to you."

Missy shook her head. "Say what you want, but I know myself. I can't do that."

Her breath then came to a still stop as she felt him breathing close to her face. Strands of her hair moved from his words, brushing past her cheeks and moving on. "Don't say that," Logan said fiercely; so fierce, that she could feel each meaningful word resonate through her body. "You never say that. Never."

And with that, he was gone.

"Jeez, what's his problem?" she mumbled, fixing her clothes as she sought for the stairs.

After five to ten minutes of not finding the stairs, Missy groaned aloud. She felt the walls and started moving towards the elevator, which had been built into the mansion not so long ago as Storm had told her.

"Dammit, aren't these glasses supposed to work? Fucking stupid!" Missy snarled in anger.

She walked into it, stabbed a button she hoped was three and waited for the elevator to take her up.

Old music from the 1950's started playing within the elevator, as it started moving up towards her destination. Everything was good and perfect until Missy noticed she could feel the mechanical box slowing down. The elevator, which had been placed there for the benefit of the professor, came to a shuddering stop. And soon the lights flickered off.

With nothing left to see, Missy stood there dumbfounded.

"Hello?" she called out, taking a step towards the elevator's doors and hitting it with her fist. "Can anyone hear me?"

There had to be someone! Students were milling around the hallways not so long ago!

Missy yelped and flinched harshly as the sound of loud popping went throughout the school for the gifted. And when the screaming of innocent children rang in the air, a violent jolt of fear ran through her.

"Help me! Someone please help me!" Missy screamed while pounding the doors with the fists.

It wasn't just that fact that she had absolutely no control of her powers, but Missy couldn't fucking see! She cursed at her genes, she cursed at her blood-parents for bestowing the inheritance of mutant DNA into her bloodstream just for her to be as messed up as they can come.

"Oh, god, please!" she whined as she continued to hit the doors. "Help!"

"What are you doing here?"

Missy shrieked with the decibels of a million speakers. She whipped around and peered in the darkness. "Who are you?" she screamed.

"It's me! Kitty! I heard you screaming and decided to drop by!" Kitty then hesitantly placed her hand at Missy's elbow. "Look, the mansion is under attack. The professor demanded all the students to head for the safe exits and follow the tunnels into the city until this was all over. Someone is going to take care of us, but we got to go now."

"I would if I wasn't fucking stuck in an elevator!" Missy all but snarled.

"Well," Kitty started with a cocky tone. "It's a good thing I can walk through walls, isn't it?"

"What—"

The girl whose stuffed animals were mercilessly slaughtered by Logan the previous week snatched Missy's hand without further ado and pulled her forward. Missy was about to chew the girl's head off when suddenly she felt as if she was moving through jello. Her body molecules were reacting slowly to being phased through walls as they ran for safety.

Despite her eyes being temporarily impaired (something she fiercely hoped), her ears could catch the sound of gunshots and screams of agony.

She panted heavily, already sweating as she was dragged behind Kitty.

They were running quickly down the hallways, keeping very close to the walls in case someone unlikeable came towards them.

Kitty peered around corners, keeping her eyes peeled back as she sought for any signs of safety and danger. "Don't worry, Missy. I've been training with the X-Men. I can get us out of here." Kitty said in an effort to comfort the woman's death-like grip on her shoulder. She hissed when Missy's grip only tightened. "Relax, dammit!"

How the hell can she relax when there were bullets flying through the air? Missy merely crouched, keeping her head low as she ran with Kitty.

"Hey, stop!"

Kitty replied to that yell by making a sharp turn, and transported the both of them through the second floor.

Missy released a shrill scream as her stomach rose to her throat. While Kitty had a clean landing (as she was used to her mutant powers), Missy went rolling on the floor. She groaned, curling up in a ball instinctually as she felt pain blossom throughout her being. The untrained woman gasped as she fought to stand on her feet, feeling Kitty's hands pulling the woman up urgently.

"Get her out of here, Kitty!" Logan yelled before he went careening through the kitchen's window.

Wade Wilson, after that blow to the Wolverine, turned and smirked rather cutely towards a blushing Kitty. "No, beautiful. Stay and have fun with us. Join the bloodbath."

"Never!" Kitty yelled. The teenager turned to grab Missy only to find the woman transported quickly across the kitchen, held by a man adorning a cowboy hat. "Missy!"

Missy fought against the man's hold. "Let me go!"

He gently held her wrists tightly. "Now, now, this will be over soon."

Kitty glared at John Wraith and dashed towards him with a mighty yell. Wilson sliced at her with his two katanas, but the teenager merely phased through them. Just as soon as she was a couple of feet away from the man, the refrigerator vibrated madly from a distance before plowing straight for the teenager. There was no time for Kitty to catch notice of it (as she had just started training recently) and soon she was hit by it.

The teenager crumpled near the wall of the opposite end.

"Kitty!" Missy cried out.

A man walked into the kitchen and yawned. "Getting a little rusty, Wilson?"

"Shut it, Bradley," Wilson said sullenly. "I almost had her!"

Missy fought against the restraints of the man holding her down, and when she realized she couldn't escape, she snarled in anger. "Pigs! Filth! How could you, she was a child!" Despite the fact that Missy couldn't see them a hundred percent, she glared mightily at them.

"Why don't I answer that?" Wilson said, skipping towards the captured victim. "It's money, baby. Money makes the world go round."

"Bastard!"

"Wrong again, sweet cheeks. My parents were married," Wilson said cheekily.

A figure jumped through the broken window. Logan stood up to his height and flared his arms out as his adamantium claws popped out with thirsty vengeance. "I'm not done with you, bub," he growled, stalking towards an excitingly jumpy Wilson.

"I'll be sure to leave my autograph on your skin this time."

"Healing factor, fuck face."

"Wade, down."

Logan, who had just slashed at Wilson, froze as he heard the sound of a familiar male chuckling. He turned around quickly, nostrils flaring with angers when he recognized whom it came from. "Stryker," he growled. The rest of the threat was cut off as Logan was lifted off the floor and thrown through the back of the wall.

Stryker chuckled, walking into the building as if he owned the place. His old eyes turned towards his restrained daughter and smiled. "Well, if it isn't Missy." He strode towards her, smiling at her reddening face. "Why don't you give your father a hug?"

"You're not my father!" Missy screamed, fighting against her captor.

"Our DNAs seem to object, my girl. If anything, we are just as close as your low-educated foster parents." Stryker turned away from her profanity and snarls, facing Team X with a demeanor of a captain. "Get her on the ship and sedate her. I don't want to hear her mouth. Wade, bring in Victor from the woods. Why don't we have a small family reunion?"

Disoriented, Logan struggled to his feet. "Fuck you!"

Apparently, there was no need for Wade to even exit the kitchen as Victor came strolling in.

His nostrils flared, soaking in the scent of the frail. Dark, dark eyes scavenged the area only to find nothing but his disgusting brother and boss. "Where is she?" he asked, his voice rough and ragged; the desperation to find her took a toll on his body. It was evident from the veins straining on his neck that Victor was more than desperate to find the woman. And for what? He didn't know. All Sabretooth knew was that the beast within craved for her, rendering his body incapable of concentration and bloodlust until that deed was met fairly.

"On the ship. See ya there." Wade whistled, saluting the three militant men before jogging off to the helicopter out front. "Don't forget we got the weather witch, the telepath, and laser beam out front!"

"The weather bitch is out!" Victor called back, all the while keeping his eyes on his dear brother.

"Victor," Logan growled. His eyes strayed to the blood dripping down his brother's claws as he caught the scent of Storm on them. A wave of anger rode through him as he stood once again. "Give her back."

"Oh, we couldn't possible do that," Stryker said. He walked away from the destroyed counter marble and leaned against the sink. "She's my daughter, Logan. Why shouldn't I be bonded with my only child?"

"Because you're a sick fuck!"

"I'm a person with ideas, a person with desires of protection for our country. It's only for the better, truly!" Stryker laughed, grabbing a jar of cookies before nibbling on one of the cinnamon dusted ones. "I know you've acquired some measly information on what your past was, Logan, but I can assure you that with the cooperation of Missy, we can destine for good."

"By kidnapping and forcing her to your sick experiments?" Logan roared, darting towards Stryker with a blow only to be attacked by Victor.

Victor slashed at Logan's chest multiple times, the sickening grin on his face growing as the front of the Wolverine's shirt became tattered. He suffered more blows from the runt as his goddamn adamantium claws continuously staked him through the chest. "Motherfucker!" Victor snarled, grabbing his brother by the throat and lifting him up. "C'mon, Jimboy, return back to the fun. Then I wouldn't have to beat the shit outta ya so much."

"Never! You're murderers!"

"Only when paid." Victor grinned sickly.

Logan roared, clutching at the hand around his throat helplessly. "Never," he spat, spittle dripping from the sides of his mouth as he fought to breathe.

"Well, we tried." Stryker said with a half-hearting shrug.

Sabretooth smirked at Logan before slamming him down into the ceramic tiles of the floor. Cracks of spider webs slithered out from beneath Logan like a halo. His low groan of pain made Victor smile proudly. "Hate to break the reunion, runt, but I gotta cut this short. No hard feelings?"

Logan snarled at him. "Fuck you…" he struggled to say.

Victor flashed him his fangs. He then plunged his hand through his brother's chest and scratched at anything his hand could reach.

Logan's back bowed as a deep hoarse yell of agony rang from his lips. He struggled during Victor's maniacal surgical procedure, and in less than a second the Wolverine went limp from the overload of pain running through his sensory.

A twinge went through his heart, but Victor overlooked it. He pulled his hand out of his brother's chest and sneered down at his prone figure as he stood. "Oh, Jimmy," he simply said, staring down at his brother's figure with nothing more than a worry, knowing that his younger sibling also attained the genetic mutation of healing and aging. There was literally nothing that could kill the two brothers, nothing.

"Victor, let's go." Stryker commanded, turning heel and walking out of the kitchen. He continued on through the mansion, stepping around the unconscious bodies of some of the mutants while humming a Pink Floyd's song beneath his breath. "Did Wade say we have three to deal with outside?"

"Two," Victor replied. "Laser beams and telekinesis."

"Ahh, most likely that was dealt with. No need for worries." Stryker murmured, walking confidently out of the mansion and through the grassy field. He headed for the black helicopter in the front of the lawn.

His team seemed to be already inside, starting their transportation.

"Like I said," Stryker laughed. "Nothing to worry about." But soon that was cut off when someone was running out of the helicopter.

John staggered, holding a massively bleeding arm as he ran to Stryker. "S-she's escaped!"

Victor waited for no command as he dropped down to his four-legged run and dart into the forest behind the mansion.

**As soon as I started writing, I couldn't stop. It's getting too good, haha! So you guys got the idea of her powers. Any questions, feel free to ask.**

**Happy New Years Eve! **

**I vaguely remember Gambit being blind when I used to watch X-Men Saturday mornings on Kids WB as a child. I don't remember how he got blind, but I remember he was for a short moment! I'll have to search that up later :3 I must say this now…Gambit has ****ALWAYS ****been my favorite X-Men :D So fiiiiine~**

**So, here's my question to you lovely reviewers:**

**Who's your favorite character from the X-Men? :D**

**hannahnicole9** xiMenagerie _Blacklion2803_ **AvalonTheLadyKiller** Akari . Wolf . Princess _Risika Kiisu Seto_ **InkedCupcake92** BookFinder _Bamon_

**Jenna – **WOOOO! YOU'VE UPDATED ON THE CHAPTER! Yup, yup! She can imagine things and have it happen. Not only that but her eyes have some powers, too due to her parents DNA interlinking and mutating her powers, lol. Haha, I felt like Logan needed some whooping! Love your choice of words! We'll see a purring Victor soon…hopefully lol :D


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

"Get her on the ship and sedate her. I don't want to hear her mouth. Wade, bring in Victor from the woods. Why don't we have a small family reunion?"

The man holding her immediately started moving at Stryker's command. She struggled in his grip, kicking out helplessly as noises escaped from her mouth of vulnerability and weakness. The man shook her violently. "Stop moving!"

The glasses on her face dropped to the floor, making her just as blind as she was.

"Want me to get the chloroform?" The man whose powers threw Kitty into the wall with the flying refrigerator asked.

"Yeah, man, she's moving too much and I don't want to hurt her." He dragged a struggling Missy to the door and called after the running man. "Make it fast, Chris!"

There was no way they were going to use chloroform for her. There was no way she was going to participate and allow them to knock her out. Missy thrashed wildly as soon as she heard what he said. She threw her head back and successfully broke yet another nose. It had done nothing to loosen the hands around her wrists, but it had done enough to disorient her captor.

"Imagine, Missy. Imagine!" she told herself, imagining Godzilla coming by and ripping this guys head off.

But it wasn't enough. Soon, they were already inside the helicopter.

"No!" Missy screamed. She threw back an elbow and felt it vibrate madly as it came in contact with someone's forehead.

Chris Bradley moaned before his knees buckled beneath him. The chloroform bottle dropped and shattered into a million pieces. In result, the mutant knocked out besides the spill.

At that Missy held her breath as she fought wildly.

"Just," Wraith grunted. "Hold still!"

She closed her eyes and imagined with all her heart that the seat belt (from the seats of the flying machine) ripped out of the government funded helicopter and wrapped around the man's neck. When he cried out, her eyes opened and she only could she a massive amount of red bleeding through the man's dark skin.

Whatever happened, she didn't wait. She pushed him away and ran in the direction she felt herself being dragged from. And soon, she was surrounded by green.

She was panting like a wild animal. Desperate sounds escaped from her mouth as she threw herself deeper within the forest of the mansion. Dear god, she didn't know how much of land the forest held, but she prayed it was deep enough for her to run in and hide from them. Missy ignored the sun shining down at her, feel the warmth of it soaking into her skin.

Her shoulder bumped harshly into a tree. She spun from the impact and landed on her stomach. Wheezing, Missy stood and continued to run. That wasn't the only tree.

More than once she ran into trees.

They were everywhere, continuously running into her as her blurred vision poorly picked up on her surroundings.

"Fuck!" she cried out weakly as her face slammed into a tree. The bark of it scraped against her temple, and the collision of attack made her stand there, swaying from side to side, as she fought to stay focused. A warm sensation of blood trickled down her face.

Ignoring it, Missy dragged her feet forward, keeping her arms out as she fought to see.

Nothing was in focus. Like a camera, her vision was unfocused, leaving the woman to depend on pure luck as she tried to out run these people.

There was no telling whether she was going to survive or not. Missy was well aware that Stryker wanted her, but for what, she knew not of. And she didn't want to find out. If she could possibly hide somewhere here, there might be a slight chance that Logan would locate her. With his heightened animal senses, Logan can find anything he desired.

Missy screamed as her body went flying forward. She gasped, panting loudly and quickly as she clutched at her side, feeling it scream with equal vocalization of her throat from the pain of her fall.

Assuming that she had broken a rib, Missy weakly dragged her body towards a green blob, feeling around it to see that it was a shrub that would well enough hide her if she crawled into the center of it. Without further ado, the Minnesota woman pushed the inside thin branches away, forcing her body into it and ignored the idea that she was invading the very home of bugs and spiders. When she was properly set into the shrub, Missy relaxed, whimpering every now and then as her side lighted her with agony.

"Oh, god…" she squeezed her eyes shut, biting her lip as she fought to control the pain.

There had to be nothing worse than a broken rib. Nothing!

Missy wanted to curse the world. She wanted to curse everyone out and blame them all for her predicament. She didn't ask for this! She was human, goddammit! And someone out there fucked up the entire system of normalcy and had her blossom into a freak. A freak whose vision doesn't work, and who doesn't know how to use her weenie powers to protect her.

Just as Missy was about to curse, the sound of leaves crackling and sticks breaking underneath heavy footfall caught her attention.

Despite the fact that she couldn't see well, Missy squinted her eyes and peered into the blurs of color. She silenced her breathing to something as quiet as possible, ignoring the angry stitch at her side as she wanted to stay hidden.

She was a rabbit hiding from the predator.

Victor stood there for a moment. He lifted his nose into the air and his nostrils flared. Sweeping in the smell of pure air with the tangy scent of coppery blood, Victor's eyes narrowed.

The beast in him brayed and with it the voices returned tenfold. Victor roared. As a child the voices had always been there, driving him slowly into the insanity he currently lived in. But now, they were becoming too much. Last night, before this mission came up, Victor went berserk in Stryker's compound. He attacked everything at sight and even went at it with Wade. Though he had no recollection of it, there were cameras. And Stryker was not happy.

It couldn't be helped though. The voices were maddening. They were chaotic, screaming and yelling violence and neglect, demanding he do something to please their blood thirst. Knowing that they were just a part of him as he was a part of them, he went on a killing spree within the city to dwindle those voices.

But they didn't stop.

Instead, they got louder.

And they weren't the only one. His beast, his animalistic side, was constantly moping and raging at the loss of the frail. One moment he was gleefully killing someone and the next he was sitting down on a chair near his kill, brooding about the aspects of life melancholy. It was infuriating that both sides of Victor were at completely different variables. He wanted to kill himself just to end it all. But he was not a coward. He will not leave without a fight.

Victor growled, his dark brown eyes of malice glowering as he sought for the frail.

He will kill her. It was all because of her everything started happening. Out of sight, out of mind. Out of mind, out of misery.

The tracks of the woman running through the forest were quite sloppy. It looked as if she was running with two limp legs. And he could tell that she had run into a few trees from the way her foot tracks were.

"Idiot," he scoffed. The man leaned forward and breathed in the scent of blood on one of the trees.

Now this would be a pleasing hunt. She will be easier to hunt.

Filing her scent into his mental cabinet, Victor strode forward. His nostrils continued to flare, taking in the numerous scents of the forest.

And as he went in deeper, closer to his kill, Victor's walking became quieter, much like a cat readying for its prey.

His eyes immediately went to the blue-looking shirt inside a shrub. He frowned and stood in front of the shrub for a while, staring at the woman who was hiding in there and realized that this stupid, idiotic woman hiding in this bush that can barely hide itself, was her. Without waiting for another second, Victor's hand plunged into the bush and snatched the woman up.

She yelped in shock, struggling in his grasp as she held onto his hand around her neck.

"Let me go!" she said, kicking at his shins and knees.

Victor snarled and shook her in midair, watching as the woman cringed from the pain of it. She gasped and looked just a bit over his shoulder while snarling, "Who are you? What do you want?"

A dark chuckle left his lips at this. "Take a good look, sweetheart. I'm pretty sure you'll remember."

Missy glared at him, unaware of who was exactly standing in front of her. "I can't see, asshole, or else I would've recognized your disgusting face—" Before she could even finish her sentence, Missy was dropped. She moaned, feeling her ribs protest from the fall. Her hair was ensnared in the man's hand and tightened, bringing her neck back to a point where Missy was struggling to breathe.

"I didn't hear what you said, sweetheart. Why don't you try that again?" Victor asked sarcastically as he continued to bend her head back. He watched the expanse of her white neck vulnerably appeal to his salivating fangs. "I can't hear you!" he said angrily, purposely making her arch her back and irritate her broken rib.

The woman clutched at his hand with one of hers and had the other flailing at her side. Oxygen made her survival retarded as she depended on the basic of basic instincts for life.

"Stop struggling!" Victor snarled and shook her head around, ignoring the yelling from her mouth as the roughness of it pained her. "Shut the fuck up or I'll skin you alive, bitch."

She hadn't stopped immediately. Who would when the madman's fingers nearly clutched the back of her head with the strength of a lion's mouth? Missy whimpered, feeling tears trickling down her face as her chest quivered in fear. She didn't dare open her eyes. She didn't want to see that brown blob of a man attack her anymore.

She was terrified.

Victor purred at her submission subconsciously. And slowly, ever so slowly, he lowered himself to the forest ground and sat upon it with the woman lying on his lap. His tight hold in her hair didn't relent from its strength. "Now," he said darkly, hoisting her closer to him. "Now, where were we?"

Missy didn't answer. Her hands were at her chest, holding one another as she fought to stay still and silent.

"I said," Victor whispered, bending his head down so that his lips were skimming the outer ring of her ear. "Where were we?"

"I…I don't know…" Missy said ever so softly.

It was a mistake.

From the moment he agreed to go with Stryker to the mansion from the moment he started running into the forest, he knew it was a mistake. As Victor had bent down to terrorize the woman in his lap with a simple show of his fangs, the scent of her blood, pure and bold invaded his senses. It dulled his rational mind and had him thinking like a beast.

The pad of his pink tongue slathered against the semi-dry trail of her blood. And instantly, at contact, he started purring.

And with that, the voices dimmed down and his beast complied with his actions.

It was peacefully quiet.

It was devastatingly delicious.

The scent of coppery goodness infected him like a love virus. It traveled through his vein at the speed of a freight train, dulling his senses and train of thought. He growled lowly, his eyes half-lidded and sight veering on that glassy red droplet of blood seeping from her head wound. He licked it up and his chest reverberated with that lowly purr. Seduced by the tantalizing scent of her blood, Victor continued to lap at her face. The roughness of his tongue traveled the planes and contours of her face; it moved slowly with conviction.

Victor's nails dug into the woman's skin.

Such powerful intense sensations were roiling through his being. If he closed his eyes, Victor was certain that he was floating in space. In the pit of his gut, there was something swirling devilishly. It made him all but moan in delight, feeling his erection pressing up against the woman's side. And slowly, with no shame at all, he started rubbing himself against her in his awkward position.

The rough pad of his tongue lapped up the blood, moving from her cheek to her temple, concentrating at the wound as if pleading for more to bleed. One of his legs uncrossed from his Indian sitting posture and caged the woman in, cradling her in his lap and pressing his crotch harder against her body.

Her breath was caught in her throat. Missy didn't dare open her eyes. It was one thing for this crazy deranged man to start licking her like a dog, but humping her? Good god, she did not have the strength to stop this.

Not only was she caught in this unfavorable position, but also his nails were literally digging into her skin like steel cold nails. She felt them prick through her skin and open fresh wounds. She cried out when he roughly grabbed her arms and started licking those open wounds as well.

Missy wanted to cry. Of all people, why her? She was a good egg, she was!

"S-stop," she said, trying to pull back her arm.

Victor's eyes snapped open and looked into her teary brown ones. "Don't tell me what to do." And to emphasize his point, Victor slashed his nails down the softness of her inner arm.

Missy howled in pain, kicking out her legs as she tried to bring her arm to her chest and cradle it like a wild animal. But the iron-like grip at her wrist prevented her from doing that. She wept and fought weakly as Victor shook her in pure frustration.

"Shut up!"

"No!" Missy's hand went sailing and slammed into his face.

Victor roared in anger and pushed her off of his lap. He grabbed her by the collar of her shirt and threw her against a nearby tree. He watched without an ounce of concern as she bounced off of it rather comically and landed in a heap. The mass murderer stalked towards his victim and picked her up again. "Now, did we learn something new today?"

Missy was barely breathing. Her labor breaths were thin and feeble as she hung there. She didn't even bother opening her eyes. She couldn't see him. Her imminent death was nothing as of now, nothing.

She groaned in pain when he shook her in midair. "I say, did we learn something new today?" he asked once again.

Victor wanted to pummel her body till she answered his question. There was nothing more irritating than being ignored. No one ignored Victor. No one. And it wasn't going to start by some frail that smelled enticing. Hell no. He was just about to toss her against another tree when the smell of fresh blood assaulted his senses.

A long, low-strung moan escaped from his mouth as his dilated eyes pinpointed the dripping blood from the wound he caused.

There was nothing more he wanted to do than insert each bloodied digit of her finger into his mouth and suck off the copper. Sabretooth wanted to run his tongue along the inner workings of her arm and drink all that red liquid like the bloodthirsty animal he was. It didn't embarrass him that his erection was prodding against the seam of his jeans, ready to jump this frail and rape the fuck out of her. He wanted that. He wanted that drop of blood.

"Victor!"

As much as he wanted to curse the world, Victor stood as still as possible. He snarled at the sound of Stryker and Wade (with Agent Zero trailing from behind) coming to him.

Glancing over his shoulder, he saw both of them waiting a couple of feet from him. "I got 'er!" he yelled hoarsely.

Wade grimaced and turned away. "Jesus, man, kill that boner before I cut it off."

"Wilson!" Stryker snapped.

The assassin merely held up his hands and walked back towards the helicopter. "I'll meet you three back at the 'copter. I ain't interested in keeping company with a man and his dick." Wade shuddered violently before lopping quickly to the helicopter.

Stryker's eyes descended to Victor's very noticeable arousal and frowned. "Perhaps I shall have Agent Zero as her caretaker permanently. You are well aware that I have no use for damaged goods, Victor, and I cannot take the chance." With a sharp whistle, Stryker approached the two. "Put her down. Agent Zero will take care of her."

Victor stared at Stryker for a moment, his eyes growing dark with malcontent as the beast in him roared in displeasure.

With that, he released the woman and ignored her outcry as she was dropped from her hung position. "Oops," Victor said sardonically as he walked past Stryker, bumping into the man's shoulder hard enough to have him stumble. He ignored his boss's call and walked towards the helicopter, determined to hold his strength until he was alone.

Insanity was boiling within him (as he had left the girl at a good distance) and he couldn't take the chance to go berserk again.

Missy hissed when she felt someone grabbing her wrist and hoisting her over a shoulder like a bag of potatoes. Her thigh twitched when it was pricked, and she felt the cold sensation of something running through her thigh and into her body.

"Whaaa…" she murmured.

"What was that?" Stryker asked.

"Just something to make her sleepy." Zero said, walking quickly to the helicopter. "We have to hurry, General Stryker, or else back up will arrive."

Stryker nodded and both started jogging.

Missy shook her head from side to side, fighting off the dizzying sensation as it threatened to overcome her senses. She grasped a fistful of the man's jacket and tried to elevate herself up and slid off the man's shoulder. He grunted in response and grabbed the inside of her thigh with one hand and her calves with the other arm, before moving his shoulder roughly to get her back into her compliant position.

"Noooooooo," Missy moaned, feeling her mouth heavily salivating.

In less than a second she was strapped to the helicopter. But she was not as yielding as she was when the Asian man carried him. The drugs were running through her veins but because of her mutant genes, it was digesting it quickly and efficiently.

"Let me go!" she cried out sloppily "Let me go! Help! Somebody help me!"

"You're on a helicopter, sweetheart. No one's here to save you." Wade chuckled.

"No, no, no, no!" Missy yelled, kicking out her legs and thrashing her body as she felt the helicopter lift from the premises of the mansion.

Chris winced at the pitch of her screams. "Can someone give her something? She's annoying me."

"Shut the fuck up!"

Missy shook her head and closed her eyes, ignoring Victor's snarls of fury as she continued to fight against her restraints. "I won't stop! This is illegal! Kidnapping is a crime! You'll go to jail for this! I swear it!"

"Her mutation is reflecting off the drugs," Stryker said, not bothering to turn around to see the commotion. He was co-pilot to Agent Zero, managing the flight. "Don't give her chloroform, it won't work."

"I got something!" Wade shuffled through the small pockets of his black flak jacket and held up a small jar. "Aha!" Giggling madly, he twisted off the cap and shook the orange pill bottle until two popped out. "Alright, girl, open up that pretty mouth of yours and you can get to swallowing these babies," he said, waggling his eyebrow in a sexual manner.

"Fuck you, pretty boy." Victor snarled and was just about to unbuckle his seatbelt when Wraith grabbed his wrist.

"Victor, sit down," he said.

"Mangy cur," Wade spat.

Sabretooth roared and slashed towards the man who teleported between Agent Zero and Stryker.

"Victor, cease yourself before I do it for you!" Stryker yelled, turning around fully in his seat and glaring at him. "I will not tolerate foolish acts. Get the girl some sedatives! Strong sedatives! And the rest of you sit in your seats till we reach base!" Huffing in anger, he turned around and adjusted the headphones on his head. "Jesus Christ, you're all like children!"

"Glad I ain't your kid," Wade rolled his eyes before proceeding.

Missy's mouth was grabbed at with hard fingers. She was breathing hard through her nostrils, screaming in her throat as she tried to kick him. It only made one of the other men hold her legs down as Wade straddled her lap.

"Open wide," he said softly and dropped those pills in her mouth.

She didn't have a chance to spit them out as he held his hand over her mouth and pinched her nose shut.

After that, everything went absolutely still.

Her big brown eyes stared into his, watching every single motion of his face. There was not a single thought running through her mind. Not even the fact that there was a very attractive man sitting on her lap (and he was heavy). She didn't even remember that she was in the midst of being kidnapped.

Time stood still.

Missy didn't move a single muscle. She sat there, quiet…oh so quiet until her lungs started burning. In that split second, she became an animal.

She moved her head rapidly from side to side, kicking out her legs and moving her body from side to side as she tried to throw off the man from her. Missy's mouth overflowed as it was heavily salivating from her preventing herself from swallowing the pills. Oxygen swept from her nostrils as she screamed deep in her throat from panic, and at that full fledge panic attack, she swallowed the pills.

"There you go," Wade said softly, patting her cheek tenderly before getting off of her and returning to his seat.

It didn't happen immediately.

Missy was feeling her body slowly going to sleep as the minutes past. Her body numbed, and each muscle went slack. It was a fight for her to simply keep her eyes open. On and off, she was mumbling, kicking out her arms and legs weakly as if she still contained the energy to fight them off. Her head lolled forwards, unable to keep itself up. There was nothing more for her to do. Her vision went black and her breathing became rhythmic.

It was thirty minutes when she finally went unconscious.

Their mission was finally complete.

Regardless of the fact Stryker's original Team X from way back in the late 1970s could not be with him, they were enough: Agent Zero, John Wraith, Chris Bradley, Wade Wilson, and Victor Creed. After Logan's escape and fight on the island, Stryker (who had been cursed by Kayla) had finally succumbed to rest and peace with a captured mutant who had counterpart Kayla's curse with the help of Victor.

Victor, Victor, Victor, Stryker mused about the ever so _loyal _yet troublesome mutant as he sat upon his leather chair in the office of his current hidden lair in the northern province of Canada. Sure, his last one had been decimated, but there was nothing like the deep cold winters. Not only that, but the privacy around her was astounding, especially when he had his government-aided men roaming the area.

He loved Canada. He really, really loved Canada.

Stryker sighed as he leaned back against his leather chair, hooking his fingers together and laying it upon his slightly protruding stomach from his heavy drinking and mass carbohydrate eating diet back in the day. His blue eyes were trained on a specific screen amongst the numerous screens attached the wall opposite of his desk.

He should've known that Norwegian woman was a mutant. Of course, Stryker researched every little bit of information of the escorts he bedded and wanted them strictly human unless they contained abilities worth his while for experimentations.

"She must've had her files hidden. They get tricky underground, hm?" he murmured quietly to himself.

But it didn't matter. Sure, he didn't expect that his offspring would carry a mutant trait, but it was useful enough. He hadn't known about her until five years ago when Agent Zero had brought him a file he hacked from Magneto's system. It was known far and wide that Magneto's assistant, Mystique, was more than expertise when it came to the computer and the Internet. Her deadly fingers could find information far and wide (in spite of of how small and nonexistent it was), and she had come across some very important information about another child of Stryker's: a child whose blood carried a very faint trace of mutant genes.

At first it didn't cross Stryker's mind, as she was just another mutant and another bastard. But when he thought of Jason, he knew he hit the jackpot.

So, with the permission of the government (though it took quite some time), he had Victor procure Team X.

Thank the heavens above he didn't have Victor kill them in the early 1980s.

They were pretty useful.

Sadly, Dukes had gained horrendous weight. He wasn't up for reshaping and training. He was useless. And what did Stryker do to useless people? Mmm, there wasn't really any need for explanations.

Everything has changed; everything has changed for the better good really.

Stryker removed his glasses and wiped the lens with a small cloth. He placed it back upon his face and studied the screen.

The black and white screen showed his daughter curled on the cot. It's been a little over three days since they've tranquilized her. After the first day, Stryker had thrown a fit and interrogated Wade only to find out that the 'pretty boy' (as Victor liked to condescend Wade as so) had given Missy horse tranquilizer.

"Acepromazine maleate, duhh." Wilson had answered sardonically. "Why are you giving a big fuss? Helped me a lot on my missions."

"Did they live afterwards?" Chris asked sarcastically.

Wilson was quiet for a while, placing his hand upon his chin as he was deeply thinking of his innumerous victims, before answering. "Nope."

Wade had kept his life simply for the small fact that he had merely given the woman 50mg, as he had claimed. Luckily, her mutation had the drugs devoured before it could be fatal. Stryker roughly punished him with back-to-back missions from third world countries for the rest of the week. And not only that, but also Creed had almost killed Wade when he figured out why the woman hadn't gain consciousness.

Stryker wondered about Victor's odd obsession with his daughter, and he wasn't pleased at all. He demanded Victor to keep away from Missy at all times. Granted, the feral mutant wasn't pleased either, but Stryker will not have Victor foiling his plans.

No, no, no, none of that.

The Military General hummed an old song of the 60s and continued to watch the screen watching calmly as Missy started moving slowly. Because the database and system of Charles Xavier was more complicated to hack into, Stryker had no knowledge of what her powers were. This was the first test: the test to see if she would use her powers for escape.

"Come on, my daughter. Show me something worth my time."

Missy's mouth felt like it was full of cotton. The need to drink was strong. Her body felt like it had been abused with demands of her hardcore PE teacher back in high school. Brown eyes fluttered open, eyes feel like its burning with the inferno of hell as bright light assaulted her vision. She winced, groaning weakly and turned to her back to hide from the white.

Lying there on her side, Missy breathed in deeply. As she tried to grasp herself, she heard something nagging at her, calling for her. She ignored it.

"Where…" she said, coughing violently when the dryness of her throat choked her. She sat up and coughed continuously, feeling her half-blind eyes water from the effort of controlling herself.

_Missy._

Gasping for air, Missy leaned against something hard and held a hand to her chest. She willed herself to breathe rhythmically, cringing as she felt her muscles ache and body tremble from misuse. And boy was she mighty hungry.

_Missy!_

What the hell was that? She turned around peering with her bad eyes to see that she was in a cell of a sort. Missy held out her hand slowly, feeling around and felt bars surrounding her. It was then sounds were harassing her like a deaf child with his newly acquired miracle earpiece.

"Missy!"

"I know that voice…." she said weakly, her throat burning as she squinted into the blur of colors to see a fuzzy outline of someone pressed up against the cell adjacent to hers. "I know that voice," she said once more with confidence as she leaned forward, trying to decipher the sound waves of the man's voice.

"Missy! It's me! Oh god, why are you here?"

"…Slade?"

**Wow, I honestly went on a writing spree for this story. And now, I feel the inspiration dying and so it'll be a while before I can update this story again, haha. It was a good sprint though! **

**I'm not running by any movie storyline. Therefore, Team X is still alive...with the exclusion of Fredrick Dukes. Of course, it will be the same but I will make twists and turns so that it's possible for Wolverine to still have his adamantium claws and for Team X to exist with the loyalty to Stryker, etc., etc.  
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**If anyone else is familiar with my work on fictionpress, they'll recognize the similar setting of this chapter as it would be in "Atropa Belladonna" (a werewolf story). I felt it fit for Victor to be 'grooming' his prey as he had no control over himself and his beast. It was something that did not come intentionally, but I figured it's something that fit perfectly for the feral man. **

**I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter! Thanks for the reviews!**

**xiMenagerie** AvalonTheLadyKiller _skycord1190_ **Akart . Wolf . Princess** Risika Kiisu _Beclaws Reasons_

**MOAR – **HERE'S MORE! ;D

**Jenna – **Let's hope it's temporary! And here is a purring Victor for everyone! LOL. Her powers are still at a low-level, as she has no experience with them, haha. Tell me about it. I was disappointed in Rogue in the movies, too :(


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Slade was torn. A part of him wanted to be relief that she was safe and not harmed, but the other half of him wanted to bellow in pure grief and agony as he knew his dear sister-friend had been captured by the person he tried everything within his soul to avoid: Stryker.

After the attack to the small town of Minnesota, Slade had been knocked unconscious by one of Magneto's pawns. Of course he had expected to be left for dead, as Magneto had no use for anyone who had no desires to be on his side. What Slade didn't know was that Stryker was in the area at the same time as the X-Men and the Brotherhood.

The reptilian mutant had been caught and bound, shipped over to this godforsaken cage for experimentations on his mutation.

And now, his sister-friend was here.

"Slade!" Missy nearly sobbed. He didn't miss the way her voice was rough and dry, and he knew why. Throughout those three long agonizing days, he thought Missy had gone into a coma and nearly gone insane from it.

"Missy!" he cried out, ignoring the other caged mutants around as they became irritated with their tragic reunion.

She yelped as she rolled out of the cot, feeling her body lag as if she had been asleep for a long while and crawled to the sound of Slade's voice. "Slade, talk to me! I can't see, talk to me!" she cried out desperately as if his voice had been a mirage of a sort to her depraved mind.

"Here! I am here!"

Once she touched the bars, she felt a warm hand and encased hers. Missy sobbed openly, thrusting her arms through the jail bars and hugged her reptile friend. "Slade! Oh, god!" In spite of her stiffly joints, Missy wrapped her arms tight around his quivering cold body, fingernails digging into his iron-like scales as she clutched him towards her. She felt like a child as he cradled her through the bars as well, murmuring words of comfort as his forehead pressed against hers.

"I missed you," she confessed with a broken voice. "I missed you so much."

"I know, I know. I'm here," he merely responded, smoothing her hair back with his hand. He shoved his face into her hair, relieved that she was alive.

Missy clutched Slade like a life line, digging her little fingers into his bare skin until he winced openly. She pulled back, her face expressing confusion as she fingered the edge of a bandage. "Wha…what is this?" she asked, plucking at the peeling edge.

Slade leaned away, yet kept his hands upon her arms. "It's a bandage."

"I know that, genius," Missy said sardonically. "I'm talking about what the hell is this? Why are you hurt? How did you even manage to get hurt?"

"Well, well, well, look what we have here. A pair of love birds, huh?"

Slade's head whipped towards the militant man peeking through his bars and hissed at him venomously. He clutched Missy fiercely and ignored the mewls of pain coming from her. "Leave her alone!"

The man who had made his life a living hell since day one smirked. Johnson, a soldier who had been assigned to keep watch over the mutants, strove in the pleasure of making the freaks squeal in pain and agony. It was this one, Slade Sanders, in particular, that was his favorite; as the reptile snake freak had armor nothing could penetrate—for now.

"Who is this? Your girlfriend?" Johnson teased, walking to the next barred cell to look at the tiny voluptuous figure on the floor. "Not too shabby, eyy?" He squatted and peered into the cell, ignoring Slade's snarls and hisses. "Why don't you come here, you pretty thing?"

"What the hell is going on?" Missy whispered, clutching Slade. Her head darted to the smooth voice cajoling her as if she was a frightened kitten. "Who is that?"

"Some asshole that can't get any pussy," Slade sneered, narrowing his eyes at the guard.

Johnson's smile dissipated. He tilted his head and scoffed, "For that, Slade, I might as well get some of your girl." And with that, he stood and started fiddling with a ring of keys hanging at his belt.

Slade's eyes widened. "No!" he yelled, standing up.

His skin shifted and was quickly changing into a grey rocky-like form matter. The self-created armor his mutation bestowed upon him since birth slithered over his body like water, flowing quickly in order to protect his delicate human skin from harm. It took but a moment for it to harden to a point where nothing could penetrate it. And sadly, Slade couldn't pass on this type of protection to his sister-friend.

The mutant roared in displeasure as Johnson opened the door and immediately started to throw himself against the steel bars.

Missy yelped at the first body tackle, pushing away from the low-humming bars. "Slade!" she called out, confused.

"Leave her alone!" her friend bellowed in anger.

It only meant one thing.

Missy cried out, slowly dragging her body to the corner of the room as her blurred vision picked up on nothing. Her body cried out in protest, begging her for rest as she had just awoken from a three day induced coma. "Leave me alone!" she begged, her hands patting for anything that could provide her protection.

The groaning of the steel bars bending did nothing to comfort her.

Johnson ignored the furious mutant and approached the little one who looked like she couldn't harm a fly. Sure, looks could be deceiving, but even a wolf could locate a rabbit amongst polar bears. He crouched down and skimmed the back of his fingers against her cheek, smiling as she shrieked in fear and threw herself against the wall. "Aren't you a sweet pea?" he murmured.

"Johnson, what the hell!"

"Go elsewhere, Garrett," Johnson said to his partner. "I'm trying to have fun here."

This militant guard, who was not the only soldier present, did not reply. Garrett watched as the Staff Sergeant strode up to Johnson and snatched him by the back of his collar and yanked him up.

"Hey, what the fuck—" Johnson never got to finish as the Sergeant clipped the man in the throat.

Johnson fell to his knees and gasped for air.

"There will always be pieces of shit, like you, soldier," Sergeant Calloway sneered, shoving a boot into Johnson's ribs. "Get up, maggot!" The Sergeant watched with steel eyes as the soldier staggered up to his feet, swaying from side to side (going as far as leaning against the steel bars of this cell). "Garrett, remind me to give him cleaning duty."

Garrett nodded. "Yes, sir."

Sergeant Calloway turned to the mutant girl cowering on the floor. Without any expression of any sort, he turned and barked at the soldiers to move out of the way.

Missy flinched as she heard the door of her cell close with a resounding crack. It didn't help when Slade hissed and a dull thud was heard. "Slade?" she called out.

He did not respond.

She started crying, poking her arm through the bars to try and get a feel of him. Missy squashed her face as close as she could, biting her lip to try and reach for anything really. But when nothing met the fingertips of her swinging hands, she sobbed helplessly.

There was nothing Missy Schneider was capable of doing at the moment.

She was utterly alone.

Missy wanted her old life back. She wanted the times where she could be roaming around the town with Slade and be talking about the arbitrary subjects that came to the wisps of their minds. She wanted her parents there (the Schneider's, that is), her father flipping through the channels of the television with the mind of a jazz musician while her mother was sewing god awful scarfs and sweaters that rivaled delusional grandmothers. It was her regular customers that brought smiles and laughter to her daily work at the now decimated bookstore.

At the thought of the bookstore, Missy shuddered; huddling close to the cemented wall and cell bars, Missy ducked her head to the crook of her arm.

It was the bookstore where everything had happened. It was the bookstore that had changed her life from the pinnacle of happiness and everyday average life into something that belonged to a novella.

"Shut the fuck up!"

Wildly, she brought her head up and gazed around her. There was an angry mutant screaming hoarsely, fiercely angry and desperate to cancel the sounds of Missy's crying from his mind. He yelled, throwing his body at the bars and flailed his arms around, demanding she 'zipped her mouth up before Stryker punished them all for her weaknesses', as he lightly put it.

Bringing her arms closer to her, Missy closed her eyes, lightly hiccupping and fell into a light sleep.

The dreams of daisies and sunflowers gently floated in her mind, bringing back the fields that laid behind her home to mind.

But it was cut off quickly as she was jostled out of her dream from the sound of her cell opening.

"I trusted that you slept well?"

It was General Stryker.

Missy held her legs closer to her chest, glaring in the area where the gray blob hung about with her reddening eyes. "Well, you're wrong," she answered back quietly.

The sounds his black soles of his shoes made while walking towards her, made her heartbeat quicken.

"Missy, there is no reason to be hostile." General Stryker moved towards her bed, lips pinching at the sight of the unruly, dirty blanket. Turning away from it, he assessed his daughter, ignoring the other mutant next door who had been tranquilized for his aggressive manner. "As surprising as it sounds, Missy, I am trying to take care of you. Your parents, the Schneider's were neglecting you in bringing forth your powers for limitless extention. They were wrong, Missy. They were terribly wrong in doing so."

"No," Missy said aloud, shaking her head. "My parents didn't know! They didn't!"

"Did they?" Stryker hummed, holding out a black-gloved hand to Agent Zero, who was also present in the room, and was handed a beige folder. He opened the folder and squinted dramatically at the information laid before him. "It seems here as if your parents knew about the powers of your biological mother."

"You're lying!"

Stryker chuckled, throwing a look to Agent Zero over the rims of his glasses. "You should know by now, Missy, that I am not one to lie."

Missy shook her head. "Go away! I don't want to listen anymore!"

"Your parents were well aware of your biological mother's powers and acknowledge that they were holding an eighty-percent possible mutant into their family. Regardless, they accepted you with the intention of harnessing your powers, to grow as a human."

"Shut up!"

"They were molding you into a regular human, Missy! You were going to be ordinary, average. They did not wish for something more spectacular, something more vital to the community. They did not want to bring up a mutant—"

"Shut up! I can't hear you!" Childishly, Missy pressed the palms of her hands to her ears and started screaming shrilly. Someone harshly yanked it away from her and cuffed her head, stopping her incessant screaming.

"Missy, they did not want you to be special!" General Stryker knelt before her, placing a hand to her arm, while Agent Zero held her wrists to the floor.

"No, please, no…" she sobbed.

"But I'm not like them, you see," he continued. "People out there, they're ignorant. Oh, so ignorant. They throw away such…precious, precious children in this dog eat dog world and who saves them from the others? Me. Whereas, parents sweep their mutant children like filth under the rugs, I want them close and wish to use them to their fullest potentional."

Missy cried, tucking her chin down to her chest. Yet she felt a gloved hand hold her chin gently and lift it.

"I am your father and I will help you bring your powers forth and use it for the betterment of the world, Missy. Don't you want that? Don't you want to be a superhero?"

"You're sick," Missy hissed. "You are holding me as a prisoner here against my will. You kidnapped me from a learning center created by the nicest people that could've helped me rather than you! You are the one that ruined my learnings of my power. You did! And I know you, General William Stryker." she glared at him despite her failing eyesight. "You are a savage." And with that, she spat at his face.

Ahh, but it was the truth.

Stryker smirked, releasing her chin none too gently and stood from his kneeling place. "Then you will fully understand how things will be going full on out, Miss. Schneider." Turning around and pulling a hanker chief from the lapels of his coat; he cleaned the residue of her saliva from his face. "Take this to the lab," he ordered Agent Zero, holding it by the tip as to not contaminate the available DNA sample.

"Yes, sir," Agent Zero, too, held it by the ends of the fabric before quickly delivering the hanker chief to the laboratory.

General Stryker reached in deeper into the inner pockets of his military coat and pulled out a small syringe. Removing the cap, he flicked the syringe before moving quickly to his unsuspecting daughter. She yelped as he stabbed the flesh of her arm and moved quickly out of the way.

"You will do well to remember that I do not tolerate disobedience lightly. I have my ways to keep my men in check, and I will not have you going against my wishes, Miss. Schneider." With that, he stepped back and pulled away and watched the fiasco.

Missy held herself closer as if it was a defensive position. But it did nothing when the toxins he entered to her veins traveled at the speed of light, tainting her body like a virus and a host. She gasped, clutching her chest as she slid to the floor.

Her memories raided her mind, pillaging it relentlessly as pictures swirled at thought one after the other at one-hundred miles per hour. Missy couldn't concentrate on one long enough to understand it as it was swiftly replaced by another. And soon enough, those pictures were completely starting to burn at the edges. Black fuzzy spots started replacing faces, replacing areas to a point where she had no memories of her own.

At this, she started to have a full-fledged panic attack.

Stryker watched on with a sadistic smile as random things started popping into her cell. There were tables, children's toys, clothes, and even electronics strewing around the area. Some magically appeared out of thin air before dropping while others were gently laid upon the bed as if it belonged there. Some objects were dangerously flying across the room, shattering glass raining everywhere from the elegant mirror she managed to produce while a miniature toy car hung upside down on the ceiling. Even then, a scarf tried to flow through the bars and wrap around Stryker's neck, but her concentration was too weak that it caressed the air and fell to the floor.

It was magnificent; her power that is.

Where Jason had been the illusionist, creating images within people's mind, Missy was the creationist, bringing objects to the palm of her hand to wield at her will.

"What the hell is goin' on?"

Creed was walking through the experiment holding floor, looking for Stryker to demand a much needed vacation, when he felt something thrumming through the very core of his body. Victor quickened his pace, lengthening it until he reached the very end of the walkway to see Stryker grinning like a maniac at a sound-deafening cell. It sounded like a monster car derby going on int there.

Stryker turned to see Victor and gave him a nod. "Victor," he merely said before turning back to fully assess his daughter and quickly taking notes of her mutation. "Is there something you needed?"

Victor snarled softly when he took a look into the room. The chickadee in there was going crazy, tossing objects from end to end, allowing them to stick on the walls and even shattering from existence. "What the hell is goin' on?" he repeated.

"An experimentation," Stryker merely said.

"Looks like hell, to me." Victor said, narrowing his eyes at the chaos happening before him. "Wha' you inject her?"

"Solution #43."

It was the same injection he had used on Oyama Yuriko (who was also known as Lady Deathstrike), believing that ultimate control and usage of his mutant soldiers were something highly valuable; especially when he had back-sassying soldiers from Team X to deal with. They were enough as is to have their way around. Any other mutants were forced to take this injection if they wanted to live at all.

Victor gave Stryker a quick glance. "You're getting completely control?"

"Yes," he simply said, turning to his soldier with a stony look. "Does that bother you?"

Victor sneered a smile, tilting his chin to the destruction happening before them. "Nope, but it look like it ain't working."

Stryker frowned before turning back.

It was all fun and games to Stryker, as he learnt of her powers until he realized a huge cabinet of silverware and china dishes appeared above Missy before slamming down on her with a thud. Just as it happened, everything else came to a still stop.

Cursing, Stryker hurried to the door, unlocking it with a pair of jumbling hands. "She better not die! This investment to her powers is worth millions!" Shoving the cell opened, Stryker pointed at the china cabinet. "Get that thing off her now!"

With a vicious snarl at Stryker's careless order at him, he passed him and placed his hands on the mahogany wood. Piercing his nails into it, he chucked it into the opposite side of the cell, missing the panicking general by a foot. "Just get her to the infirmary immediately!" Stryker said, exiting the cell and stomping away while muttering about delinquent soldiers.

Ignoring the yelping general, Victor strode to the woman to see blood profusely pulsing from her head wound.

A rumbling sound reverberated through his chest at the nickel-scent plunging through the air. Victor, half-lidded and diluted with arousal, stooped down to hover over the woman. She was sickly looking, especially since she had been unconscious for the past three days. Victor threw a fit over it, wanting nothing but to plunge his claws into Wade's stomach and ripping out his entrails. There were dark circles under her eyes and bruises decorating her body from the mini-tornado she was forced to create.

Victor growled, leaning down and roughly bringing her body up against his. The sensation of it roved through his senses, almost distraction him from the order General Stryker had issued.

And this was the reason why Stryker or Team X hadn't wanted to give any information on the woman's cell. They had told him he would be 'distracted' and 'pussy-whip'. But no, he had enough control of this snake charm the woman was playing upon him.

Determined, Victor stood and started for the door, ignoring the fact that his heart was beating more quickly than usual and that he wanted nothing more than to stop and lick the blood of her forehead. It would surely go to waste when the medics clean the blood to try and staunch the wound.

But no, he wouldn't.

For now, that is.

Now that he knew where she was, he would have plenty of opportunities.

**Woooo! Finally got that off my chest!**

**Hope you enjoyed! ;D**


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